


Nalu

by the_original_starfruit



Category: Steven Universe (Cartoon)
Genre: Angst, Baby!Malachite, Depression, Emotional/Psychological Abuse, F/F, Falling In Love, Family, Fluff, Human AU, PTSD, Physical Abuse, Romance, Slow Burn, Trans Characters, everyone's a lesbian, oops! all lesbians, past jasper/lapis, peridot is an awkward nerd, please let's just let lapis be happy, references to past abuse
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-03
Updated: 2017-11-26
Packaged: 2018-10-14 05:29:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 9
Words: 76,390
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10529883
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/the_original_starfruit/pseuds/the_original_starfruit
Summary: Lapis Launiu is twenty-one, struggling to raise her baby girl alone after escaping her toxic relationship.Peridot Olivine is twenty, tired, a college student, and no longer gets paid enough to live on her own.Throw in a rather forced roommate situation, a toddler, one bad attitude, two clumsy kids in love, and by some miracle these two might just make each others' lives a whole lot better.





	1. aloha malihini

Lapis sighed, hoisting Malachite up on her hip as they walked down the busy streets of the city back to the apartment. The baby was tuckered out, her warm cheek resting on Lapis’s shoulder, chubby body sandy and damp from their time on the beach. Lapis smoothed her daughter’s wispy curls away from her face, juggling her tote bag and her water bottle as she unlocked the front door, giving it a kick out of habit (the wood always swelled and got stuck at this time of year).

     Her legs groaning in protest, Lapis climbed the three flights of stairs and took out her house key, letting them into the apartment and dropping her heavy bag inside the door.

     She cast a longing glance at the worn-in couch, sagging in the middle where she liked to sit and looking invitingly soft, and then proceeded to the bathroom instead.

     Malachite started to fuss as she was woken up and stripped of her tiny bathing suit and diaper, sand scattering on the tile floor. Lapis hummed and gave a comforting but futile “Ssshhhh,” as the sleepy baby started to complain in earnest, hiccupping out short, irritated sobs and screwing up her eyes. Lapis put her in the sink and sponged the salt and sand off her body and out of her hair. She picked her up and dried her with a soft towel, the crying winding down, and put a fresh cloth diaper on from the basket resting on the counter. She grabbed the little pajama suit that was tossed into the basket and put that on, too.

     Lapis cradled her daughter in her arms as she transported her to the bedroom, pressing a kiss to the silken skin of her damp cheek as she deposited her on her back in the crib that stood in the corner. Malachite spread her chubby limbs out from her body and then succumbed to sleep, her face relaxing and her rosebud lips parted slightly with her even breaths. Lapis turned on the fan that stood in the window to dispel the summer heat, then turned and left the room, leaving the door open a generous crack so that she’d know when Malachite woke up.

     She slowly walked into the living room and collapsed on the couch, getting sand on it and not caring as she pushed her fingers through her damp hair. She rubbed the bags under her eyes that were now a permanent part of her appearance, putting her bare feet up on the low wooden coffee table that squatted in the middle of the room.

     A long sigh escaped her as she picked up the stack of bills that were perched like paper vultures on the arm of the couch. She rifled through them, barely suppressing a groan. Counting the two girls who had dropped her surfing class plus the fees of the babysitter, this week’s pay was barely enough to cover the utilities.

     _What am I going to do about the rent?_

She rested her head against the comfortingly cushy back of the couch, thinking vague thoughts about taking another job, maybe doing housework for the other tenants in the apartment building.

     It seemed like she was only there for a second before she was snapped out of her doze by the reminder of her phone, pinging out a repetitive mechanized song from inside her bag. She got up, silenced the phone and texted the babysitter, and then peeked in on Malachite (still napping) before stripping off her damp bathing suit and getting in the shower. She didn’t have much time to get ready, her shift at the coffee shop started at five.

     It was minimum wage, but it was better than nothing.

 

                                                                  *   *   *   *   *

 

Peridot, eyes on her phone, dodged expertly around the crowds of summer tourists that were here to gape at the ocean, spend exorbitant amounts of money on food and hotels, and clog the public transport systems and streets and beaches. She rolled her eyes at the rather large woman in a dress and huge floppy sunhat who was trying without success to flag down a taxi, her oversized bag hanging off her shoulder.

     She made it to her favorite spot along the beach, a sheltered bench that sat partially behind a cluster of rocks. It was usually quiet and provided an escape from the noise of the city’s bustling streets.

     She sank down onto the weather-beaten wooden slats, absentmindedly scratching the knee of her jeans. Her leg was bothering her again, and she suppressed a pang of worry at the knowledge that she should probably see a doctor, but the prosthesis was the least of her worries right now.

     Suddenly she was interrupted by a cheerful voice, distantly calling her name. _“Peridot!”_

She couldn’t help the small smile that appeared on her face at the solid boy who rounded the rocks and came running towards her. Pink bathing trunks damp and sandy, and tight curls still wet from his swim.

     “Hi Steven,” she said as he sat down on the bench next to her. He had recently turned fourteen, and some of the baby fat was being stretched out of his face and limbs, replaced with muscle. He was getting taller too, she realized with a pang, he was bigger than her now. “How’s living with the clods been?”

     “Yo, watch who you’re callin’ a clod, homegirl,” said Amethyst, following Steven’s tracks in the sand to stand in front of the bench. The short woman blew her bangs out of her eyes and stood with one hand on her voluptuous hips, a slight smile teasing her plump lips.

     “It’s been great! Dad’s car wash is really kicking off, and I have my own room in the beach house. Garnet gave me money for ice cream too,” he explained, tracing a decently realistic flower in the sand with his toe. A rose, Peridot realized. “Pearl didn’t want me to get fries with it since that would spoil my appetite. But Amethyst let me anyway.”

     Peridot smiled, but it was quickly replaced by an irritated frown as she glanced back down at her phone, reminded of the problems that her _clodding_ landlord was presenting.

     “What’s wrong, Peridot?” Steven asked, concerned, as Amethyst swung down to sit on the unoccupied space on the bench.

     Peridot looked up quickly. She’d forgotten how perceptive he was. Most kids she knew wouldn’t have noticed anything, but Steven was attuned to body language as well as being very emotionally sensitive. She let the tension flow out of her shoulders and sighed.

     “Nothing. Just – adult problems,” she said shortly, fixing her eyes stubbornly on the ground.

     “I can listen to adult stuff,” he said earnestly, dark eyes wide and slightly reproachful, and Peridot sighed again before giving in.

     “There’ve been some… complications with my apartment,” she started, wondering how much to explain about her rather sticky living situation. Amethyst looked over, a serious look creasing her normally cheerful face.

     “My roommate,” she said in a rush, “is an absolute clod. To make a long story short, he landed himself in jail for selling –“ she caught herself, Steven’s face confused, “well, he can’t pay rent anymore. Not that he really lived with me to begin with, but he got the money in on time.” She took a deep breath, glowering. “My landlord said she’d give me an extra month before the lease expired, but I couldn’t – can’t – pay the rent myself. And then, because of the clodding tax raises on the building, she doubled it.”

     Amethyst puffed out a long, sympathetic breath and shook her head slowly. “Sounds like you need another roommate, P-dot.”

     Steven’s face creased in a frown, then brightened. “You should come live with us!” He continued enthusiastically, “I have the loft bedroom, but you could totally sleep on our couch for a little while. Or if you wanted your own room, the bathroom’s free…”

   Peridot snorted and ruffled Steven’s hair. “Wow, thanks, Steven, but I think I’ll pass. Four people’s enough for that tiny beach house.”

   He put his finger to his mouth in thought. “Who do we know that lives alone?”

His face brightened as Amethyst shrugged, and he said, “Lapis does!”

     Amethyst appeared to think it over for a second before nodding, looking somewhat surprised. “Actually, you’re right, Ste-man. That might work out for both of ya.”

     Steven nodded happily as Amethyst continued, “Jasper moved out, like, two years ago, and Lapis hasn’t taken on another roomie far as I know. She lives in a two-bedroom up on Sunset Boulevard. Nice part of the city, livin’ around there isn’t cheap. Seems like a match made in heaven,” she added, tipping Peridot a wink.

     Peridot frowned (ignoring Amethyst’s rather immature insinuation) and thought about where she’d heard the name before. It suddenly clicked in her head, and she said incredulously, “Lapis Launiu? The girl Jasper was _dating_ for a year?” Amethyst nodded and grinned. “So you’ve met?”

     Peridot shook her head. “I never even saw her. Jasper was very…protective.”

She lowered her voice and directed it to Amethyst. “Do you know what even happened with them? I know it wasn’t good, but Jasper – well, she never gave me any details.” _Other than how great the sex was every other minute,_ she thought caustically, heat rising in her cheeks.

     Amethyst shrugged, speaking hesitantly. “Well, Jasper isn’t, ya know, the easiest person to live with. I heard that they fought a lot, like screaming fights, and it just wasn’t workin’ out for either of ‘em. Personalities were too different and all.” She sighed and rubbed the back of her neck. “I know Jasper’s your friend, P-dot, but you two are waaay different. I’d give Lapis the benefit of the doubt.”

     Peridot opened her mouth to say that Jasper wasn’t her _friend_ , precisely, then closed it again, still wondering exactly what had happened to break them up. She knew firsthand that Jasper was downright impossible to live with without some kind of confrontation happening eventually, but she wondered how different it would’ve been in a relationship.

   To Steven she said, “Can you ask her for me next time you see her? If she’d be interested in a roommate?”

     He nodded. “Okey-dokey, artichokey.”

Amethyst flipped out her phone and checked the time. “C’mon, Ste-man, time to get goin’. You know Pearl’s gonna flip if we’re late for dinner.”

     Steven stood up from the bench and crushed Peridot in a brief hug. “Bye!” he said as Amethyst got up.

     “See you later, Steven,” she replied as they walked back around the curve of the beach, Amethyst ruffling his hair. His head was almost level with hers.

     She sighed and stared out over the ocean, which was calm and blue and flat. The rent wasn’t going to take care of itself; maybe it was time to see if she could put in a few extra hours at the store.

     She sighed and got up, ignoring the sharp wince of pain between her leg and her prosthetic. Time to head home if she wanted dinner before her shift.

 

                                                                   *   *   *   *   *

 

Lapis trudged up the stairs for the last time that day, rubbing her aching head. She unlocked the door, kicked off her shoes, and gave a tiny wave to Sadie Miller, who rose from the couch.

     “Hi Lapis,” she mouthed, and Lapis pointed towards the back bedroom in a silent question. Sadie nodded, and Lapis pulled a crumpled twenty out of her wallet and pressed it into her hand. She smiled her thanks and left, closing the door silently behind her.

     She locked the door behind Sadie and then went into the bathroom to brush her teeth. She stood at the mirror, lights blaringly bright, and just stood, toothbrush in hand, head down in front of the sink that gleamed and winked like clean bone.

     Exhaustion. A little bit of worry too, about herself and her baby. But mostly just a numb tiredness - the wish to fall off somewhere high, maybe into the ocean, and sleep. Sleep for more than four hours at a time, without needing to set the alarm or go to work or cook food that her drained body could barely ingest. Let the water swallow her up, let the tide carry her away into the darkness that she had been persistently pushing away to the edges of her life.

     It would be blissful to forget the flashes of fire and deafening thunder of gunshots, and better to not even think about Jasper at all.

     But if she were sleeping, who would take care of Malachite?

Lapis pushed the brush into her mouth, once, twice, three times, and then spat and rinsed. She let it clatter into the bowl of the sink and left the bathroom, eyes pulsing with green and red patterns of afterglow in the dark hallway. She stripped off her bra and jeans, letting them fall to the floor, and walked over to the crib where Malachite slept, an angel in miniature, skin glowing with the moon and the orange-tinted streetlights that crept across the floor.

     Lapis was always in awe that she’d created something so small, so beautiful and unconcerned. She kissed her daughter’s curly head and climbed into bed, welcoming the darkness where she might spend a few hours.

 

                                                                 *   *   *   *   *

 

She woke up to a bright bar of sunlight slanting through her gauzy curtains to spread itself out over the bed. Malachite was awake but not crying, standing with her pudgy hands gripping the vertical bars and watching her mother with her big, inquisitive eyes. It was a light day, a new day, and she felt better, farther from the dark.

     “Aloha kakahiaka, beautiful baby,” Lapis sing-songed, getting up and crossing the room to lift the baby out of her crib. Malachite giggled and chirped, “Ma,” when Lapis kissed her warm cheek. They walked out into the bathroom, where Lapis snapped Malachite out of her onesie and changed her diaper deftly. She brushed her teeth with the baby on her hip, bouncing her slightly as she babbled fragments of words and the nonsense, liquid syllables of infants.

     “Are you hungry?” Lapis asked rhetorically, as Malachite said loudly, “Yeh,” and tugged on her mother’s baggy t-shirt sleeve.

     Lapis sat on the couch and pulled up her shirt, cradling the baby to her chest with one arm. Malachite latched on and nursed hungrily while Lapis checked her phone, automatically supporting her baby’s head with the crook of her elbow.

     One text from Sadie Miller. _really sorry, Lapis, but can’t babysit this afternoon, Lars is taking the day off & i need to be at the big donut _

     Lapis sighed, quickly texted back that it was fine, and then felt the phone vibrate with a new notification. Steven was texting her?

     She quickly opened the message to see the brightly colored text bubble.

_Hi beach summer fun buddy! will u be @ the beach today ?_

     He had used several dolphin emojis. Lapis smiled and texted back, _Yes, around 12 this afternoon, i have some surfing lessons_

     A reply came quickly. _Great ! i’ll see u when you’re done teaching, if that’s ok_

Lapis smiled. Steven was such a sweet kid, and though normally lighthearted he was shockingly mature; he had helped her of his own volition directly after Jasper had finally left, when she was pregnant, terrified, and completely alone. She always looked forward to seeing him. Malachite was enthusiastic about the fruit snacks and chocolate that he always seemed to have.

     Then, _are you bringing mala ?_

_Probably not, i’d need someone to watch her while i taught_

Lapis smiled slightly in relief as Steven quickly typed, _garnet is taking me to the beach, i’m sure we could watch her for u !_

Her fingers clicked over the screen as Malachite finished nursing and pulled herself off Lapis’s lap. She put down her phone and let the baby onto the floor, where she started to crawl energetically around the coffee table.

     _Thanks a lot steven, that would be great! See you at 12_

She sent a heart and a beach ball emoji and went to get breakfast in the kitchen. She scooped Malachite off the floor with an “Ups, Mala,” and headed into the kitchen. She peeled an orange one-handedly, giving the baby a wedge to chew. She gummed it contentedly, perched on her mother’s hip, and Lapis ate the rest of the fruit quickly as she checked the clock. Four more hours left to do laundry, pack her diaper bag, wrestle Malachite into her bathing suit, and leave the house to walk to the beach.

     She caught herself humming as she bounced her daughter on her hip and rummaged in the fridge for a container of yogurt. The sun was shining. It was a good day.

 

                                                                 *   *   *   *   *

 

Noon came quickly. Lapis dressed Malachite in her little green bathing suit and a swim diaper and then put her into the sling. She was thankful that it wasn’t hot enough for her daughter to be upset about the close proximity and shared body warmth. She picked up her tote bag, filled her water bottle at the sink, and left the apartment, locking the door behind them.

     They walked down the busy streets, Malachite peeking out of her comfortable perch at the cars and buses that droned by. One of the best parts about the apartment on Sunset Boulevard was that it was only a three-block walk to the beach, which took Lapis about five minutes on average.

     They arrived on the beach about a hundred yards from the boardwalk, which was swarming with tourists. The beach was thankfully less crowded, and Lapis spotted Garnet right away – she towered over most of the other people by six or eight inches, and her large afro spun out around her head like a lion’s mane. Steven was skipping next to the tall woman, holding her hand and chattering excitedly. He spotted her and waved energetically, and she lifted her arm and waved back.

     “Hi Lapis!” Steven said, ever-cheerfully, and bounced up and down in front of her like an overgrown puppy, trying to see Malachite in her sling.

     “Hi, Steven,” she said, smiling and lifting Malachite out of her miniature hammock. The baby babbled and reached her chubby arms out towards Steven. “Nice to see you, Garnet,” she added more cautiously. She was never on as good terms with Garnet, Amethyst and Pearl as she was with the boy who seemed to be their honorary son.

     The stately woman nodded, the dark, ever-present sunglasses that hid her eyes glinting, and said in her deep, accented voice, “’Lo.” Then, as Lapis put Malachite gently on the sand and the baby reached towards Garnet’s smooth ankle, her face split into a rare smile. Lapis was surprised by its warmth.

     She pulled a beach blanket out of her bag and spread it on the ground next to Steven and her daughter; he was showing her how to make a simplified castle out of loose piles of sand. She put her tote bag on the blanket and quickly stripped off her shorts and loose tank top, revealing the bathing suit underneath. She stuffed the discarded clothes into the bag, explaining, “Malachite’s sippy cup is in here, if she’s thirsty she’ll ask for it. She just ate before we left the house, but there’s some applesauce and a spoon in the left side pocket. She’s usually happy to stay on the blanket, but she does crawl, and it’s fine to bring her to the water and let her splash around, she’s wearing a swim diaper.”

     She paused to take a breath, and looked Garnet in the eyes (or as close as she could get), and said sincerely, “Thank you. Very much.”

     Garnet nodded seriously, and though she didn’t say anything, Lapis knew she wasn’t being held in debt because of the slight smile that curved her broad lips.

     She ruffled Steven’s hair and said, “Thanks a lot, kiddo. I’ll see you after my lesson, yeah?” He grinned and nodded as she bent down and kissed the top of Malachite’s head, which already smelled of the ocean and the sand.

     “Ma, mama,” she stated, and Lapis kissed her hair again, saying as cheerfully as she could, “Ke Akua pu a hui hou, Mala. You have fun on the beach.”

     She straightened up and walked to the line of sheds that crouched along the other side of the beach, keys in hand. She unlocked the storage shed where she kept her personal and her teaching surfboards. She reached up to the shelf on the back wall, where she kept the cans of wax and the wax combs. Her longboards needed to be rewaxed, and she set to work as she waited for her students outside the musty shed.

     The first to arrive, early in fact, was a little girl named Ingrid who had started lessons only at the beginning of the summer.

     “Hi, Miss Lapis,” she said nervously, and Lapis looked up and smiled.

“Aloha awakea, Ingrid. Want to learn how to wax a longboard?”

 

                                                                   *   *   *   *   *

 

Peridot wandered outside across the quad, pushing her glasses up the bridge of her nose and blinking owlishly in the bright sunlight as her eyes adjusted. Her tech workshop had gone well, and she had finished a difficult commission for a woman who’d come into the shop with the wiring on her laptop heat-damaged almost beyond recognition. Peridot had spent several long nights replacing the tiny parts and breathing new life into the machine, and had been paid well for her efforts. Pearl Johar, the neurotic perfectionist of a manager, had been satisfied with her handiwork as well.

     Despite that, Peridot still hadn’t managed to scrape up enough for the rent, and she was running out of time. In fact, she was seriously considering moving back in with Jasper, who had offered, though the prospect was terrifying for several reasons.

     Suddenly, her phone vibrated from her jeans pocket. She fished it out and checked the time (2:13), and saw a text from –

     “Steven?” she muttered, confused, and opened messages.

It read, _hey peridot ! do you wanna come down to the beach to talk to lapis ?_

She frowned, stopped walking underneath a large tree. _Lapis Launiu, the possible roommate –_ Her fingers dexterously tapped out a reply over the tiny, well-lit keys.

_Sure, i just got out of class. When?_

His reply came immediately, _now !_ Then, _we r on the beach near the boardwalk, across from funland_ (with a beach umbrella emoji, Peridot noted.)

     She sighed. She wasn’t dressed as well as she had hoped to be when meeting a potential roommate (plain jeans and a ratty green t-shirt with an alien face on the front), but it would have to do. At least she’d showered that morning.

     _Be down in ten, have to take the bus._ She texted back, then slipped her phone back into her pocket, wincing and rubbing at her knee while she walked briskly down to the bus stop.

 

                                                                     *   *   *   *   *

 

Lapis waved to her last departing student (a tiny boy who barely had the courage to go in the ocean when it was rough) and let the comforting coolness of the waves slap her knees for one more moment before tucking both boards they had used under her arm and heading back to the shed.

     She deposited her boards, grabbed her phone from inside to check the time (2:06), locked up the shed, and headed back to where Garnet and Steven were sitting with Malachite on the blanket.

     “Hi,” she called out, and Malachite looked up at her voice, scrambling around to face her. Steven waved, Garnet nodded.

     “Ma!” she said, her voice loud and piercing. Lapis smiled, said “Aloha awakea, Mala,” and picked her up under the arms. She swung her around before nestling her close to her body and kissing her round little cheek. “Aloha,” Malachite said, tugging on a piece of Lapis’s wet hair before resting her head on her mother’s shoulder.

     “Did she behave?” Lapis asked as she sat down cross-legged on the edge of the blanket. Steven grinned and said, “Yeah, we had a lot of fun! We played with rocks and shells for a while, and then went down to the water. I wanted to get ice cream, but Garnet said she should have applesauce instead.”

     Garnet nodded solemnly, and Lapis turned her attention back to Steven as he said, “Oh! I almost forgot –“ he paused thoughtfully.

     “Sounds important, whatever it is,” Lapis said lightly, turning around to rummage for her water bottle in the overstuffed tote bag, “don’t forget again.”

     “Well…” Steven began tactfully, “Would you want to possibly do a favor for a friend of mine?”

     Lapis sighed. She _hated_ being indebted to people. “What kind of favor, Steven?” she asked, trying not to immediately shoot him down. “Because I have two jobs right now, bud. I’m a little busy.”

     He shook his curly head. “No no, not like that. It’d be more like - a long-term favor. And it might help you, too!”

   Lapis didn’t like the way this was headed. She maintained a skeptical silence.

Steven continued, “My friend is having some…money problems, and she needs a new place to live, or at least a roommate. She goes to college at BCU and works in the same computer store as Pearl, so she lives near you already.” He looked up at her with big, hopeful, ridiculously long-lashed eyes. “I’m sure she’d be really quiet, and she only needs one room!”

     Lapis sighed, rubbing her temple with her free hand. Malachite started to squirm, so she put her down on the blanket and handed her the blue sippy cup from the top of the bag. She wasn’t keen on having a roommate, mostly because it would be extremely hard for her to adjust to sharing her space with another person – but on the other hand, having the rent split in half would be enough of a blessing to cancel out any roommate-related curse.

     “Who’s this friend of yours, Steven?” she asked tiredly, watching as he perked up hopefully.

     “Her name’s Peridot,” he said, and Lapis thought, _The one Jasper never stopped talking about? Oh oh akua…_

     Out loud she said, “Well, I’d have to meet her first, and I’m very busy this week. So unless she can come here now…”

     Steven whipped his phone out of his pocket. “I’ll text her now and ask if she can come!”

     Lapis dropped her head to her bent knees and tried not to groan.

After about a minute of silence, Steven said cheerfully, “She says she’ll be here in ten minutes, she needs to take the bus from the college!”

   “Great,” Lapis muttered, and stood up, rooting around in her bag and pulling on her shorts. She took out a clean cloth diaper and tiny goldfish-patterned shirt, then caught Malachite and laid her down on the blanket.

     “Time to change, Mala,” she said soothingly, and although the baby’s mouth turned down into a little bow of displeasure, she didn’t cry, for which Lapis was grateful.

     “You’ll like Peridot, Lapis,” Steven said brightly as Lapis stripped off Malachite’s tiny bathing suit and brushed the sand off of her. “She’s really smart and funny, and she knows how to fix your phone really well,” he frowned and lowered his voice slightly in shame, “even when you get it in water. And she doesn’t tell Pearl.”

     Lapis blew her bangs out of her eyes and changed Malachite’s diaper, reaching into the bag for a dry washcloth and wiping off any dampness before the baby could complain.

     “I just hope she likes kids,” Lapis muttered, pinning the cloth diaper securely and pulling on the light shirt.

     Garnet snorted a bit behind her hand, and Lapis turned to her, half worried. Steven was quick to reassure her. “Don’t worry, I don’t know anybody who doesn’t like Malachite!”

     The baby stood up and then pitched forward into Garnet’s lap. The tall woman caught her under the arms, and Malachite babbled happily and pointed to the water behind them, saying, “Ka wai, ma!”

     Lapis smiled and grabbed her daughter’s hand. “That’s right, Mala, ka wai. Will you say _water?”_

   Steven glanced up at the boardwalk. He straightened, excited. “Look, guys, there she is!”

 

                                                             *   *   *   *   *

 

Peridot got off the bus at the boardwalk, and promptly reflected this might not have been the best idea as she beheld the crowds of tourists that heaved and bustled back and forth like a living ocean of inconvenient bodies. It was bad enough to try and walk through a crowd like this with the prosthesis, but her 4’11” frame was adding insult to injury.

     She pushed through, muttering under her breath, thankful that her knee seemed to have calmed down a bit and wasn’t hurting as badly.

     She planned how she would introduce herself to this Lapis girl. _Peridot Olivine, future roommate?_ Too bold, that was a ridiculous imposition. _Peridot Olivine, technician?_ Ridiculous, she didn’t have a title. _Just Peridot Olivine then. Hi, I’m Peridot Olivine, pleased to meet y -_

   Suddenly, a body collided with her from the back, and her foot went straight out from under her. She sprawled on the ground, a ring of gaping people surrounding her, leg stuck out awkwardly and loose jeans pushed up to expose the metal and silicon that replaced flesh and bone below the knee.

     “I’m – oh geez, I – sorry, sorr-“ The boy, probably about her age, started forward to help her up, apologizing like a bumbling idiot.

     Face flushing, Peridot got up herself, not as gracefully as she would have liked. “Why don’t you watch where you’re _going_ next time, you clod!” she snapped, and turned her back on the crowd, which parted this time in lieu of her rage.

     Ears burning, Peridot lost herself in the crowd, taking deep, calming breaths and fighting her way to the other side of the boardwalk.

     She finally cleared the last of the people, swinging out into the salty air of the beach. She stopped to scan the clusters of people who were scattered on the sandy expanse, and recognized Garnet (sitting on a blue blanket) by the straight posture of her back and the masses of hair that encompassed her head. She waved slightly to Steven, who had jumped up and was waving both arms above his head as if she was a ship and he was drowning out at sea.

     She walked over to the blanket (wincing as she left the sturdy boardwalk for the treacherous sand that shifted at every step).

     “Hi, Peridot!” Steven said, clearly trying to contain his excitement but grinning like a jack-o-lantern.

     “Hi Steven, Garnet,” She replied politely, and Garnet nodded. There was a _baby_ of all things playing on her lap, a chubby, mixed race toddler in a diaper and little fish-patterned shirt. She had a dramatic puff of tightly curled hair, much like Peridot’s but darker and with the diaphanous, wispy quality of babies. There was a wide stripe of lighter skin across her large, dark eyes (vitiligo, her mind supplied), and a few dime-sized patches of paleness adorned her cheek and neck. Peridot opened her mouth to ask why there was an infant in this group of people, when Lapis stood up.

     Peridot’s heart stopped a beat in her chest. For a terrifying moment, she felt faint, and all she could hear was the blood rushing to her head, loud as the ocean that pounded on the sand behind them.

     Then the world started turning again, and she could breathe. She felt her pulse slamming a steady beat on the inside of her neck.

     The girl who crossed the blanket was of average height, slender, with smooth skin that glowed in the sunlight like gold-brown satin. She was wearing only a bikini top and short cutoffs, and Peridot’s eyes wandered down past her honey-dusted collarbone before she could stop herself, taking in long, toned legs and a slightly rounded stomach that was striped with long stretch marks. _Oh my stars,_ she thought frantically, mentally slapping herself. _Maybe look her in the eyes instead of staring like some halfwit teenage boy hanging out a car window?_

     Feeling her ears start to burn and her forehead heat up, she forced herself to focus on her face instead. Her most noticeable feature was the electric blue hair that curled around her cheeks, and slightly too-long bangs that she didn’t seem to mind falling in her eyes. A sharp nose with a very slight upturn, and thin, pert lips set in a default frown. Not quite conventionally beautiful, but striking, like a sunset clouded over by a humid day. Her eyes were almond-shaped, tapering to graceful points, tired, purple bags underneath marking evidence of undeniable sleepless nights. Short dark lashes and dark irises, as black and opaque as the ocean at midnight, right now narrowed in distaste as they surveyed Peridot coolly.

     She opened her mouth. “Per –“ her voice broke slightly, and she blushed harder at the undignified squeak, “Peridot Olivine. N - nice to meet you.”

     A moment of unimpressed silence, then, “Lapis Launiu.” Her tone was flat, but her voice was musical. Another short silence, while Peridot tried to figure out something to say besides _Want to share an apartment, I need money_ or quite possibly _I’m gay._

   The awkwardness was suddenly diffused by Garnet, rising to her full six feet four inches with the baby cradled safely in the crook of her arm. “Time to go, Steven,” she said in her soothing, rarely heard voice, handing the baby over to Lapis, who expertly settled her on her hip while Steven stood up and hugged them both goodbye.

     “Bye Steven,” Lapis said sounding much friendlier and ruffling the boy’s hair.

“Bye Lapis, bye Mala, see you, Peridot,” he said, giving her a little one-armed wave. She nodded at him and Garnet as the tall woman took his little hand in hers, and they disappeared onto the boardwalk.

     “So!” Peridot said, voice higher than usual, as Lapis turned away, picking up the blanket and shaking it out one handed before stuffing it into the cloth bag that sat in the sand. She was briefly distracted by the peek of an elaborate tattoo stretching across Lapis’s enticingly bare shoulders. She swallowed thickly. “What are your requirements for a roommate? I’m happy to oblige.”

     Lapis turned back towards her, switching the baby to the other hip and bouncing her slightly. “No loud music, no sharp objects left in the living room or anywhere except your room. You’ll get one bedroom to yourself, there’s one bathroom, the kitchen and living room are free to use anytime but they’re decorated the way I want them.”

     She picked up the tote bag and swung it over her unoccupied shoulder. “Nothing, and I mean _nothing_ that could be a danger to Malachite. Loa’a ia?”

     Peridot swallowed wordlessly, and Lapis sighed in irritation. “ _Got_ it?”

She nodded. “Y – yes, of course.” She paused, trying to bring her scattered mind into order long enough to formulate her next question. “What’s the rent?” she asked.

     Lapis replied briskly, “Three fifty a month for each of us. I really need to take my daughter home now, but give me your phone and we can pick a day this week for you to come see the room.”

     Peridot dug into her pocket and unlocked her phone, embarrassed by the scruffy, lime-green case. Lapis didn’t comment, only quickly added herself as a new contact, deftly typing with her left thumb while bouncing the baby with the other hand. Her nails were bitten brutally short, covered in flaking cerulean nail polish.

     She handed back the phone with a short “Text me later today,” and turned away, opting to walk across the beach rather than fighting through the masses of humanity on the boardwalk.

     Peridot sighed and collapsed to sit on the sand, pushing her glasses up the bridge of her nose and running her fingers through her hair.

     Lapis Launiu was _not_ going to be an easy roommate.

 

                                                                     *   *   * *   *

 

Lapis ran the bathwater warm, pulling up the drain and undressing Malachite, who said happily, “Mama, ma bath,” and kicked her feet.

     “You’re in a good mood,” Lapis muttered, and plopped her daughter into the bathwater, watching sand fall away from her skin and drift to the bottom of the bathtub.

     _Peridot Olivine,_ she thought grimly, thinking back to her alleged roommate and rubbing shampoo into Malachite’s hair.

     She had been laughably short, probably not even five feet, although her hair (a loosely curled afro, bleached pale and combed into a sort of a triangle, with a funny part) had given her at least another eight inches of height. Probably mixed race, her eyes a bright green behind cat’s-eye glasses and her medium-brown skin liberally sprinkled with freckles. A bit nerdy-looking, sharply upturned nose and overbite, graphic t-shirt.

     Odd how she had been wearing jeans in 80-degree weather on the beach, but maybe whatever class she’d come from had been air-conditioned. Lapis was well accustomed to the microclimates of college class buildings.

     She’d seemed nice enough, if a little socially inept, though that might’ve had more to do with Lapis’s bathing suit than anything else. She smirked to herself and rinsed Malachite’s hair, careful not to let the grit of the sand that she washed away irritate the baby’s sensitive scalp. Malachite slapped her palms flat on the water, splashing the walls and her mother’s front.

     Lapis just hoped she’d be… unobtrusive.

She lifted Malachite out of the bath, flipped the drain back up to let the water gurgle away, and wrapped the baby in a towel.

     She dried her, dressed her in a fresh diaper and a blue onesie, then shut the bathroom door and checked to make sure there was nothing Malachite could pull down from the counters. Once she was convinced the room was safe, she undressed, stepped into the shower, and listened to Malachite babble over the flow of hot water.

     She sighed, thinking about her stupidly busy schedule. It was Saturday, and tomorrow she had three more surfing lessons in the afternoon. Monday was another shift at the coffee shop, ten to six, but Tuesday morning could work.

     She rinsed the last of the conditioner from her hair, turned off the water, and stepped from the shower.

     “Hey there, Mala,” she said, wrapping herself in a towel as her baby tottered over and grabbed her dripping leg.

     “Mama, hunry, e pono ai,” she said.

“Let’s go into the kitchen then, get something to eat,” Lapis said, picking her up and checking the clock as she strode into the kitchen clad only in her towel. She glanced at the digital clock on the face of the oven. Twelve after four.

     “How about early dinner then, Hilo?”

She snapped Malachite into her high chair, folding down the little plastic tray and plopping down a sippy cup of water that had been sitting on the counter from earlier that day.

     She opened the fridge, rummaging for leftovers and pulling out a container of beans and rice from two nights ago and a jar of carrot-flavored baby food.

     “Here you go,” she said, opening the Tupperware and putting two spoonfuls of the beans and rice onto Malachite’s tray. The baby picked up two beans and ate them messily, then started on a tiny handful of rice.

     Lapis popped open the jar of baby food as she strode into the living room, picked up her phone, and saw one new message from an unfamiliar number.

     _Hi, it’s Peridot. Would wednesday be okay for me to see the apartment?_

Lapis sighed and texted back, a tiny frown creasing her forehead. _Only if you can come at 8pm, when i get out of work_

Her phone vibrated in her hand as Peridot texted back almost immediately. _Would Tuesday be better? I have a morning class, but nothing in the afternoon._

Her brow smoothed out. _Yes, how about 12:30?_

The text came quickly. _Sure, see you then._ Then, _thank you._

     Lapis dropped her phone on the couch and went back into the kitchen, digging a spoon out of the dish drainer and dipping a little out of the baby food. Malachite had finished her beans and rice, and she accepted the orange puree cautiously before grabbing for the spoon and jar and feeding herself.

 

                                                             *   *   *   *   *

 

Tuesday morning – Peridot woke up at the blaring alarm of her phone, buzzing and pinging on the bedside table. She quickly opened the lockscreen and stopped the infernal sounds, then squinted at the reminder that was displayed at the top of the screen.

     _12:30 Launiu apartment 26 sunset blvd._

She cursed colorfully (suddenly much more awake), swinging her legs over the side of the bed and reaching down to snag the edge of her prosthesis, which was propped against the bedside table. She shoved her glasses onto her nose, blinking as the vaguely blurred colors of the room came into sharp focus, her walls and sparse belongings.

     “I thought that was tomorrow,” she mumbled, strapping on her leg with quick expertise and limping across the small room to her closet, where she grabbed the jeans and button-up that she had chosen the previous night. She got dressed quickly, not bothering to change out of the alien-patterned boxer shorts she’d slept in.

     She checked the time (7:18) then darted into the bathroom, where she snapped out her green retainer, brushed her teeth haphazardly. She combed some water into her hair, fixing the part just right so it stood up in her signature almost-triangle.

     Breakfast was a granola bar or less if she wanted to be at class on time. She grabbed her computer bag off the swivel chair that stood at her tiny desk (which overflowed with tiny tools, bits of metal and wire, pieces of broken and half-repaired technology - the only messy place in the room). There was a granola bar in the inner pocket that she tucked her phone into. _Lucky,_ Peridot mused as she locked her door, tucked her keys into her pocket, and started to limp down the dingy stairwell on her way to catch the bus.

     She got to the BCU campus blessedly on time, waving unenthusiastically back to Jasper, who had spotted her across the quad. She joined the flood of tired students, yawning, chattering, drinking coffee, and all of them moving faster than Peridot on their way to the Computer Programming II lecture.

     She swept with the rest of the horde in through the dark doorway to the well-lit classroom, shivering as the air conditioning blasted her. The professor, a sleek, middle-aged woman who always wore a business suit and had a Bluetooth clipped behind one ear, was sitting behind her desk. Everyone filed in and claimed a seat at the long, bar-like countertop tables and opened their computer bags, ready to take notes, and Peridot joined them. She opened a Word document, tried to open her granola bar unobtrusively, and wondered what it would be like to live with another roommate after all this time as the lecture began.

 

                                                                *   *   *   *   *

 

Lapis finished the vacuuming in the spare bedroom, standing up with Malachite on her hip and pushing her bangs out of her eyes. She stretched the crick out of her back, and the baby babbled, happy now to be heard in the absence of the vacuum’s heavy mechanical drone.

     She would have to return the vacuum to her downstairs neighbors – Nanefua had been kind enough to let Lapis borrow it. She was sweet, and though Lapis didn’t see her often (she worked with her son and two teenage granddaughters at the family’s business, Fish Stew Pizza), she always treated Lapis like another grandchild, pinching her cheeks and insisting she call her Gunga.

     She straightened her back and let Malachite down onto the floor, where she started busily crawling towards the empty bedframe. She checked her phone – one new text – Peridot.

     _Sorry, I’ll be a little late. Unexpected delays in public transportation._

Then, _Clodding tourists._

     Lapis almost cracked a smile before tucking her phone back into her pocket and bending down to pick up Malachite. She’d have time to return the vacuum before Peridot arrived.

 

                                                               *   *   *   *   *

 

Peridot finally got off the bus on the corner of Sunset Boulevard, sighing as it pulled away from the curb with a hiss and a puff of acrid stink. She checked her phone – 12:47 – and walked down the slightly decrepit street, looking for addresses. Sunset Boulevard looked like it had been a very rich neighborhood a few decades ago, and had now gone slightly to seed. Although the sidewalks were cracked, paint was peeling, and some windows were broken, the street was still shady and pleasant, overseen by white-facaded apartment buildings and tall, dappled trees contained by small metal fences.

     _Nice part of the city indeed._

She stopped at 26, which had blue flowers spilling out of a windowbox three stories up. She craned her neck to look at the window, and was met with the sight of more plants growing in pots and light curtains flapping at the open window.

     She walked up to the front door and examined the plate of buzzers that had names next to each one. _Miller. Lopez. Pizza –_ Pizza? She thought incredulously. _Allistair. Launiu._

She swallowed over her dry throat, pressed her finger to the small button, and waited.

     There were almost two minutes of silence (Peridot counted down the seconds in her head) and of her standing awkwardly on the doorstep, wondering what to do. Her finger hovered over the button. Someone walked quickly by down on the sidewalk, eyeing her up curiously but passing without comment.

     She was taking out her phone when she suddenly heard the click and scrape of a door being unlocked and pulled open.

     Peridot straightened, and Lapis stood in the doorway. She was frowning (Peridot wondered if she would ever see her smile), and the baby was on her hip, looking around with big dark eyes.

     She was again struck by how beautiful she was – the golden skin, the blue hair, the high cheekbones and delicately tapered face. Everything about her -

     She was quick to interrupt _that_ particular train of thought. She blushed and stammered out “Launiu,” with a quick, jerky nod of her head. Lapis said, “Hi,” and turned back into the sunlit hallway, clearly expecting Peridot to follow. She was wearing a long blue skirt and a crop top whose straps tied around the back of her neck. Her feet were bare.

     Peridot lurched after her before she reached the end of the hallway, catching up at the bottom of a long, narrow flight of stairs.

     _Oh, wonderful,_ she thought to herself, stopping at the bottom and watching Lapis take the steps two at a time with the ease of familiarity. Her legs were long enough that it was easy.

     “Are you coming?” Lapis asked, slightly irritated, and Peridot snapped out of her daze. She cleared her throat, embarrassed.

     “Obviously,” she snarked back automatically, then wished she hadn’t as Lapis turned away from her in cold silence. She started up the stairs, wincing and trying not to let it show. Her leg rubbed against the rubber socket of the prosthesis under her jeans.

     “Ah…what floor do you live on?” Peridot asked, slightly out of breath at the top of the first flight.

     “Third,” Lapis responded shortly, without turning round. The baby kicked her tiny bare feet and babbled. Peridot caught the word _three_ several times in the amalgam of sounds.

     She was limping by the time they got to the top of the third flight. It let out in a tiny hallway (the walls painted an unappealing shade of beige), where cobwebs hung from the ceiling in straggles of gray. There were four doors, and Lapis pulled a key out of her pocket and unlocked the first one. It was painted pale blue.

     She pushed at the door, which stuck, and Peridot blinked as she gave it a kick. It swung open, and she held it for Peridot. She walked through alongside Lapis, a layer of fine sand gritting under her feet.

     It was well-lit and minimalistically decorated, with ample sunlight coming in through the windows and reflecting off the almost-white walls. The living room was miniscule, with just enough room for the long, sagging blue-and-white couch to border a low wooden coffee table. A narrow bookshelf lined the far wall, shelves filled with books and what appeared to be twisted gray branches, with a single lamp perched on top. It smelled of the beach, fresh and salty, with undertones of baby powder and clean cloth.

     Lapis let Peridot look for a minute, getting her fill of the room, before she muttered, “This way,” and led her around the couch into the kitchen. It was slightly larger than the living room, the wide wooden floorboards transitioning into green tiles, several of which were cracked. A tiny table stood in the corner, penned in by two mismatched plastic chairs and a baby’s high chair. A sink was inset in the counter underneath the window (which Peridot had seen from the street – there were several houseplants standing on the sill and the counter, and the bright windowbox outside). Shelves that Peridot was several feet to short to reach, lined with a couple pots and pans, and white cabinets whose doors hung unevenly on their hinges. A stove (less than clean), and a smaller-than-average refrigerator.

     “Pots and pans are up there,” Lapis said, making no effort to hide her acerbic amusement as she took in Peridot’s height (or lack thereof). “Use them anytime you want to cook.”

     As if she wouldn’t just be living off Ramen and whatever frozen veggies were cheapest that week. Peridot just said, “Wow, thanks.”

     “Come this way,” Lapis said, shifting the baby on her hip and walking out of the kitchen, bare feet making tiny slaps on the tile.

     Peridot followed her, walking through the living room to the tiny hallway that was on the opposite wall of the apartment door. There were three doors, and one was ajar to show the small bathroom. Lapis gestured impatiently at it, then reached past it to open the door of what Peridot assumed was the spare bedroom.

     It was tiny, almost as small as the room she was renting now, and a window on the opposite wall reached almost floor-to-ceiling. There was a skeletal empty bedframe against the wall, a dent in the plaster opposite it, a tiny closet with a railing empty of hangers and no door. The walls were a pale mint green.

     Peridot found herself visualizing where she would put her furniture, her clothes, her work desk. It wasn’t perfect, but it would do.

     She turned to Lapis, who had stood next to her while she scrutinized the room. Both arms slung around the baby, one hip leaning against the doorframe. Peridot was standing close enough to feel the warmth radiate off her skin, and smell her shampoo.

     She cleared her throat, and Lapis’s eyes flicked to hers. Not quite so hostile as usual, but lit with a cautious hope.

     “I’ll take it,” she said, voice higher than usual, and Lapis’s face softened in what must have been relief. She nodded and said, “I still have the spare key. Hold on.”

     Peridot waited uncertainly while Lapis went to her bedroom, opening the door and slipping inside before Peridot caught a glimpse of the interior. There were some sounds, a drawer opening, and she came back out with two tarnished keys on a ring.

     Lapis picked up the larger one. “This is for the front door, so you can get inside when I’m not home to buzz you in –“ she switched to the smaller, duller key, “-and this is for the apartment.”

     She placed them in Peridot’s outstretched hand. Lapis’s fingers brushed her palm, and Peridot quickly pulled away as she felt her skin prickle with heat. She felt feverish, overheated.

     _What’s wrong with me?_

“Uuum…can you move in by Saturday?” Lapis asked, not looking at Peridot as she switched the baby to the other hip.

     “Yes,” Peridot said quickly, and felt her cheeks redden. “I – there are no weekend classes. Why?”

     Lapis shot her a level glance. “That’s the day the rent’s due.”

She nodded. “I’ll begin in the morning. Would it – “ She cleared her throat. “Would you object to me enlisting some friends to help move the furniture?”

     Lapis snorted. “I don’t expect you to carry a dresser and a mattress up three flights of stairs by yourself. So no.”

     Peridot’s forehead felt hot as she blushed to the tips of her ears. “Fine,” she muttered, embarrassed. “I’ll see you on Saturday.”

     She turned and walked quickly out through the living room, boots clunking on the wood floor. Lapis followed her to the door, depositing the baby on the living room rug. She pulled herself up on the edge of the coffee table and started to toddle around it.

     Peridot stood in the hall, and she worked herself up to cough out a small, “Thank you.”

     Lapis didn’t smile. “No problem. I’ll see you Saturday. Nine sound alright?”

Peridot jerked her head in a nod. Lapis closed the door quickly, and she heard a lock click into place.

     She blew air from her cheeks, rubbing her hot forehead. Time to go home and start packing up – finally, she’d be living with another roommate after all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hello!
> 
> so this fic has been kind of an on-and-off writing project in progress for over a year now and is very dear to me. i've only shown it to a couple friends so far and am finally publishing it here! 
> 
> please please please drop a comment with any constructive criticism at all, it really helps me so much to hear opinions!
> 
> *chapter title: aloha malihini - hello stranger


	2. hilopaliku alanui

Lapis woke up on Saturday with her arms and legs aching, head stone-heavy.

     She groaned, tired and irritable, and rolled over in bed. It had to be yesterday’s surfing lessons – the ocean had been moody and changeable, at first appearing perfect, with gentle, hilly waves. As the lessons wore on, the sky clouded over and the wind picked up. The water became choppy and rough, difficult to manage herself and two boards and two students in the unpredictable waves.

     Now, though, it was hot and humid morning, Malachite was awake and unhappy in her crib, and – Peridot was moving in today.

     She threw the blankets back and got up, swinging Malachite out of her crib and hushing her quietly. The baby cried louder, protesting her mother cuddling her to her chest in the sticky heat. Lapis cursed the weather.

   _Kuamuamu, why does it have to be this hot in June?_

Lapis went to the living room and fed Malachite breakfast, though she was fussy and difficult to nurse. She carried the baby into the bathroom, changed her diaper, and brushed her own teeth quickly, running a comb through her hair at the same time. It was already 8:30, and Peridot would be here in only half an hour.

     Lapis wondered who she’d be bringing to move the furniture. She just hoped to god it wasn’t Jasper.

    Malachite had stopped fussing and was crawling over the tile floor, reaching for toilet paper to pull. Lapis tucked the end of the roll out of her reach, and she exclaimed, angry.

     “No, ma!”

She spat toothpaste into the sink, surprised.

     “Mala, you’re just going to make a mess. Ho’opau.”

Her tiny face screwed up and she began to cry again, eyes crinkling in angry dismay. _Oh oh akua, here it comes –_

     She yelled, tiny mouth opened wide, just a loud upset sound with no words attached.

     _“No!”_ she yelled again, then, “’A’ole!”

Lapis scooped her up, cradling her against her chest, and they walked out into the living room.

     “Ssshhhh, Mala, e malie. Ka mea, u uku.”

She gradually quieted, little face flushed and resting against Lapis’s chest. They paced in circles around the couch for endless minutes. The rhythm of the walk was comforting, and the burn in her aching legs was strangely soothing. Lapis stopped when she realized the baby had fallen asleep. She sighed in tired relief, and took her into the bedroom, laying her in the crib and turning the fan in the window up a notch.

     She got dressed quickly, pulling on a pair of shorts and a blue crop top, and her phone on the bedside table buzzed with a text. She opened it, checked the time (8:56) and saw two new messages.

     Peridot, 8:42 am. _Sorry we are running a bit late, there were complications with the element of transportation_

     Lapis rolled her eyes at the pretentious word choice, opening the other text with more enthusiasm.

     Steven, 8:56 am. _We’re helping peridot move today !!! see u soon_ with a long line of van, furniture, and house emojis. Lapis smiled, mostly in relief. If Steven was coming, he was most likely bringing Garnet, Amethyst and Pearl, but more importantly, there was no chance of Jasper.

     Jasper never really got along with – well, with _anyone_ – but she’d always regarded Rose Quartz’s three closest friends with a particular breed of contempt.

     Lapis stretched her tired arms above her head, and then sat on the edge of the bed to watch her baby sleep. She was always baffled and a bit jealous of the effortlessness of her daughter’s rest.

     The buzzer suddenly blared from the living room, and Lapis jumped, snapped effectively out of her daze. She got up, closing the door quietly, thankful that Malachite hadn’t been awakened. She looked hesitantly at the stairs, not wanting to leave Mala alone, but then raced lightly down and ignored the protests from her sore legs.

     She crossed the lobby barefoot, dirty tiles soothingly cold, and pressed the button to unlock the front door. She pulled it open and blinked at the mattress that her she was met with at eye level.

     “Um…hi,” she said loudly, talking through the mattress, and stepped back into the lobby as Garnet walked through, easily maneuvering the bulky bed through the door. Steven ducked under Garnet’s arm as the tall woman grunted, “’Lo,” and proceeded towards the stairs.

     “Lapis!” Steven said happily, putting down the cardboard box he was holding and hugging her carefully around the waist. She smiled, appreciating his effort not to overwhelm her. “Hi, Steven,” she returned, patting his back gently and then breaking away from the suffocating warmth of the hug.

     “The apartment’s open, can you show Garnet where the spare room is?” Lapis suggested, propping open the front door with the block of wood that sat in the corner gathering dust. Amethyst came in as Steven ran up the stairs, her wild lilac hair tied back in a ponytail and a swivel chair slung nonchalantly over one broad shoulder.

     “Hey, Lapis,” she said, blowing her ever-present bangs out of her left eye. Lapis gestured out the door at the tiny, overpacked car that was parked at the curb. It had a desk tied to the top like an overturned turtle, and was full to the gills with boxes. Peridot was standing at the curb with Pearl, handing the tall, lanky woman a heavy-looking box.

     “Is all that her stuff?” Lapis asked Amethyst, who had turned away and was headed to the stairs. She turned around, surprised at the hostility in Lapis’s tone.

     “Whoa, chill. P-dot’s gettin’ on your nerves already, and she hasn’t even moved in yet?”

     “No, it’s – it’s fine,” Lapis muttered, embarrassed. “The room’s pretty tiny is all.”

Amethyst headed back towards the stairs, grinning. “Eh, I wouldn’t worry. P-dot’s lived in one room _with_ a roommate. I think she’ll be a-okay.”

     Lapis considered going out to help carry boxes, but instead made her escape up the stairs before Peridot and Pearl could come in. She had her daughter to care for, after all.

 

                                                               *   *   *   *   *

 

The morning passed in a haze of heat and hard work. Peridot’s knee was on fire by the time they had finished lugging her belongings up the three flights of stairs.

     She was just grateful that Lapis stayed in her room – she couldn’t afford _that_ type of distraction at the moment.

     “Well, I think that’s all of it,” Pearl said, surveying the room with satisfaction, hands on her skinny waist. Steven crashed into her from behind, pulling her into a hug, and she rested her big hand on top of his curly head.

     “Are you sure you don’t want us to stay and help you unpack a bit?” she asked, turning to Peridot. Amethyst piped up from her perch on Peridot’s desk.

     “Yeah, it’s no problemo, P-dot!”

She pushed her glasses up the bridge of her nose.

     “Eh – it’s fine, you guys. I always unpack by myself.” She glanced around at the piles of boxes that filled the unadorned room. “Anyway, shouldn’t Steven get home and have some food?”

     Steven looked up at Pearl.

“Can we get ice cream?” he stage-whispered hopefully.

     She ran her hand through her short peach-pink hair, letting it curl down onto her forehead.

     “Not until _after_ lunch.”

“I second that,” Garnet said, rising from where she’d been sitting, statue-esque, on the edge of Peridot’s bare mattress.

     Amethyst sprang up and dodged around the boxes.

“Aaaw yis, ice cream,” she said, intertwining her chubby fingers with Pearl’s long ones. The taller woman blushed and smiled.

     “Same goes for you, Amethyst. No ice cream before lunch.”

Amethyst pouted.

     “C’mon, P, I’m a legal adult!” Steven grinned as they walked out of the room together, still trading practiced banter whose rhythm had years of affection behind it.

     “Hey, Steven,” Peridot said as he started to follow them. He turned back to her, curious and open-faced.

     “Thanks. For helping me move in.” She rubbed the back of her neck. She’d never been very good at thanking people – Steven deserved much more than that.

     But his face lit up anyway, cheeks rounding out in his signature wide smile. “Aaaaw, you’re welcome!” He hugged her, arms wrapping around her thin shoulders. “Anyway, don’t worry about Lapis being upset with you. She just takes a really long time to warm up to people.”

     Peridot marveled at his uncanny perception as she squeezed him back.

“I don’t – well, you’re probably right,” she told him unconvincingly as he stepped away. Garnet picked him up and settled him comfortably on her strong shoulders.

     “Let’s go home, Steven,” she said in her low, soothing voice. “Good luck,” she said to Peridot, who opened her mouth, then closed it again without bothering to ask Garnet what she meant. She lifted her hand in a hopeless little wave, then as they left sat heavily on one of her boxes that she hoped housed nothing breakable.

     She rolled up the leg of her jeans and unstrapped her prosthesis, sighing in relief as the metal leg with shoe attached clattered to the floor. She rubbed the stump of her leg, and took off her other shoe.

     Her clothes would be the logical place to start, since the majority of the boxes consisted of them. She tugged the box labeled _shirts_ towards her, and slit the packing tape with the pocketknife she had. (It was a handy little gadget, full of useful things like a toothpick, bottle opener, and a miniscule pair of scissors as well as the three knife blades, and she almost always carried it around.)

     Peridot spent an hour on her hands and knees, transferring clothes to the short dresser in her closet, collapsing boxes, then repeating the cycle. It was _hot,_ and she was glad she’d let Pearl set up her window fan as soon as they’d dragged it out of the car. She could hear the baby fussing through the walls, probably because of the unseasonal temperature, and hear Lapis soothing her with soft, murmured words in what Peridot assumed was Hawaiian.

     She stopped as she looked around for the last box of clothes that didn’t seem to be there. She groaned, realizing that it was her socks, pajamas, and underwear. _Of course this would happen._ She hoped it hadn’t been somehow forgotten in the back of Pearl’s car.

     She pulled on her shoe and then her prosthetic. It wasn’t as bad after having a break from it, and Peridot stood with relative ease and went out to look in the rest of the apartment in case someone had put it down outside her room. It wasn’t there.

     She sighed, pushing her glasses up. She’d check the lobby before she jumped to any conclusions and called Pearl about it.

     She left the apartment, closing the door behind her, and began the arduous journey down the stairs.

     The box was actually there, and Peridot smiled in relief and went to pick it up. “Oh my _stars_ ,” she grunted. Not only was it too heavy for her to lift, but there was nobody in sight who could potentially help.

     She scowled, refusing to be defeated by her own belongings. She would _drag_ the clodding thing up the stairs herself.

     She bent over, grabbed the worn, soft cardboard on the edges of the box, and smiled triumphantly as it slid smoothly over the lobby floor. The staircase was more difficult – she stepped up onto the stair above the box, bent over, and lifted with all her might. _Well, that works,_ she thought, gasping, but her back disagreed after the first four stairs.

     She sat gingerly on the step and rested for a few minutes, rubbing her twinging knee and sweating in the still air.

     She got up and resumed her work. It took her almost fifteen minutes to get to the top of the first flight.

     Peridot collapsed on the landing, leaning up against the rough plaster of the wall. She heard footsteps coming down the stairs, and she shifted to move out of the way without opening her eyes. When they stopped in front of her, she looked up.

     Lapis stood on the last step of the second flight, looking down at Peridot with pointed irritation and the baby on her hip.

     Peridot opened her mouth, but Lapis beat her to it.

“You didn’t lock the apartment door when you left,” she said flatly, and the baby erratically patted her arm with a tiny flat hand.

     She shook her head.

“Sorry. I thought I was only going to be downstairs for a minute to deal with this clodding box.”

     Lapis looked unimpressed.

“What, you got tired of carrying it?” she asked, stepping down and prodding it with her bare toe.

     “I _can’t_ carry it!” Peridot snapped, embarrassed. “It’s too heavy.” She swallowed, face flushing. “I dragged it up the stairs.”

     Lapis snorted and turned away.

“Make sure you lock the door next time,” she said icily, but then Peridot spoke up from behind her.

     “Wait! Can you – I can’t take this box, and I have a – “ she swallowed as Lapis turned back towards her. “Bad knee.”

     Lapis stood without saying anything, just regarded Peridot with something like interest. Twice, Peridot opened her mouth to say something, but she didn’t want to break the quiet. Motes of dust swirled in the pale beams of sun that sliced through the still air, and they said nothing, only looked. Tense silence, spinning out for endless seconds, and Lapis was _glowing_ in the light from the window, every edge painted with gold.

     Finally Peridot broke eye contact to look at the baby, who had apparently taken an interest in her. She was reaching towards Peridot, chubby arms extended, tiny mouth open, and eyes bright.

     Lapis noticed, and said something at last. It was miles from what Peridot expected to hear.

     “Here,” she said, and slowly, hesitantly picked her baby up under the arms and placed her on Peridot’s lap. She was startled by how heavy such a small child was, and looked up at Lapis.

     “What –“

“Hold Malachite,” she ordered, and squatted down to pick up the box. She lifted it with some effort, the bottom bulging alarmingly with the compacted weight of Peridot’s clothes, and then headed swiftly up the stairs. A sock dangled out the bottom where the flaps were open slightly.

     Peridot cautiously encircled Malachite with her arms, and the baby nestled down into her lap, getting comfortable. They were facing each other, and Peridot, who had never had any use for babies, looked into her face and was struck by the unspoiled beauty of this miniature human. A tiny nose, too small to have a bridge, and long eyelashes. Her eyes were almost the same as her mother’s, but rounder, the slant less pronounced, and filled with a sort of fawnlike gentleness that had yet to be ruined by the cynicism of the world. She lifted her hand, and Malachite mirrored her, touching her fingers.

     “Hello,” Peridot said awkwardly, heart filling with some kind of warmth, and the baby responded with a noise that Peridot had no idea she could make - a _chirp,_ like a bird. She touched Peridot’s hair but thankfully didn’t grab or pull. Oddly, Peridot felt compelled to let her, but instead took her tiny hand and guided it back down to chest level. Her dark skin was soft and indescribably delicate between Peridot’s fingers, like a flower petal that would bruise at a light touch.

     Malachite’s eyes were drooping, and she let her head dip forward until it was resting on Peridot’s chest, just below her collarbone. She smelled like baby powder, but also like something that she supposed was uniquely babylike, a soft blend of milk, skin and clean diapers. The baby’s flyaway curls tickled the underside of Peridot’s chin as she curled her tiny hands.

     She knew why people had babies now – something that had always been a mystery before. She supposed that for some people, moments like this one would be enough to negate all the endless wailing, feeding, and diaper-cleaning.

     _She’s so warm._

She put one arm tentatively around Malachite’s back, lifting it slightly as she felt the baby stir and then letting it back down when she didn’t protest.

     Lapis came down the stairs, but she was so quiet that Peridot didn’t notice her until she softly cleared her throat. She moved forward when Peridot looked up. She picked up Malachite somehow without waking her, settled her against her own chest, then turned and headed back up the stairs. She stopped briefly, looked back over her shoulder.

     “Your box is in your room.”

“Wow, thanks,” Peridot whispered long after she had left, eyes wide.

 

                                                                 *   *   *   *   *

 

Lapis frowned to herself, thinking, perched on the edge of her bed. She kept half an eye on Mala, who was crawling around on the floor.

     She had given her baby to Peridot. Willingly. Just handed her over and let her be held by essentially a complete stranger, who could’ve done anything to her – tossed her out the first-floor window, kidnapped her, given her to Jasper.

     She supposed that helping Peridot with the box had been altogether a little out of character, but the look in the short girl’s eyes and the hesitation in her voice had stirred some curiosity in Lapis. A bad knee was one thing, but there was a feeling in her gut that it was more than that, and her instincts normally didn’t lie.

     It had been her gut telling her to leave Malachite with Peridot. The only thing frustrating her was _why –_ well, it hadn’t hurt that Mala had been eager and curious, which was odd. She was normally shy among people she didn’t know. Had mother and daughter both sensed, on some deep inner level, that this person was safe?

     Honestly, Lapis didn’t believe it. Anyone who spent as much time with Jasper as Peridot allegedly did couldn’t be without some fundamental flaw.

     Safe or not, Peridot certainly didn’t have much experience with babies. Lapis had seen that much in the flabbergasted look on her face, and the tentative way she shifted her legs when she’d put Mala on her lap. Her hands had fluttered uncertainly, not knowing where to rest. It had been – sort of funny, actually.

     Lapis had lugged the box up the stairs, struggling to keep the floppy cardboard together (it was clearly an old box, had been collapsed and re-taped several times, with some computer software nonsense printed on the side). She had set it down in the doorway of Peridot’s room, which had unsurprisingly been a mess of boxes, and was turning back when she’d noticed a few articles on the floor. They must have fallen out of the box, between the two loose flaps on the bottom.

     She smirked, remembering the unremarkable black sock and the pretty remarkable underwear that had been lying, abandoned, in little whispers of cloth. She had hesitated, not wanting to pick them up, but thinking it would be more embarrassing for Peridot to find her very personal clothes all over the living room floor.

     A pair of white boxers, patterned with tiny green alien heads. A pale gray bikini-style pair of panties, edged in green lace. A thong, pale yellow and also lacy ( _Cute,_ Lapis found herself thinking). And one lonely ankle-length sock.

     She had debated leaving a note, something like it was a house rule that risqué underwear be confined to the bedroom, but then snorted at her own maturity level. _Akua, Lapis, are you twenty-one or twelve?_ She had ultimately stuffed the clothes back through the top flaps of the box, which were as badly taped as the bottom.

     She had descended quietly down the stairs, pushing anxious regret to the back of her mind as she hurried to see her baby. She’d gotten to the first-floor landing and stopped dead.

     Shockingly, Malachite had been sleeping, curled against Peridot’s front.

The short girl had looked surprised and almost awed, with one arm delicately around the baby’s back as if she were made of glass. It had been a pretty picture, oddly serene, both of them illuminated in the afternoon light that flowed through the window. The return of that strange, dusty quiet particular to in-between spaces like stairwells and hallways, as deep as an ocean and lit with liquid sun.

     Lapis had just stood, almost as enraptured as Peridot, who seemed not to know she was there. Finally she’d snapped out of it and cleared her throat, stepping down the last couple stairs to carefully lift her sleeping baby. Her hands brushed Peridot’s bare arms for a second, and she’d seen goosebumps rash out on the other girl’s skin.

     Lapis frowned. There was no reason to get caught up in feelings and their related complications when she had her own life and her baby to deal with. If her nerdy roommate had a crush on her, then that was just too bad for her. She pointedly ignored the way her cheeks flushed at the thought.

     The absolute _last_ thing Lapis needed to be thinking about right now was a relationship. Especially after Jasper.

     Decisively, Lapis got up off the bed and picked Malachite up, settling the baby on her hip automatically and leaving the sweltering bedroom. She carefully closed the door behind her (noting that Peridot had done the same in her room) and went out into the kitchen. It was almost six o’clock, and she was hungry.

     There was a paper bag on the table, and a note, scrawled in a spidery hand on the back of a receipt. Lapis read it, a frown creasing her forehead.

     _Went grocery shopping, running to the bank. Sorry if these are in the way, I didn’t know where to put them. Feel free to move the bag if it’s inconvenient. – P_

Curious, she peeked into the bag and snorted. Two cans of peas and corn, a box of granola bars, and almost a dozen containers of vegetable-flavored Ramen.

     _That’s barely even food,_ she thought. No wonder Peridot was so scrawny.

“What do you think, Mala? Should we cook something real for dinner?”

     Malachite, good humor returned in the relative cool of the kitchen, said “Ma!” and patted Lapis’s shoulder with a tiny hand.

 

                                                               *   *   *   *   *

 

Peridot wandered slowly up the length of the street, a check for the rent folded in her wallet. She didn’t think about how her savings account was worryingly close to empty. She didn’t even care that her back was sore and her knee felt like fire; she didn’t notice. She was thinking again of Malachite.

     She had never really cared about babies before, barely even _thought_ of them – but this particular baby had been so _tiny_. That was the thought that kept getting stuck in Peridot’s head - how small she was, how absolutely vulnerable. How scientifically incredible that what was once a cluster of cells could be slowly turned into a real, breathing, thinking human being.

     Her thoughts turned to Lapis. Why would she have given her baby to Peridot of all people? She was obviously very protective over her child – as a single mother, she was practically guaranteed to be – and Peridot had observed plain evidence of that, a slight discomfort in her eyes, even when Steven had been playing with Malachite on the beach. Steven, who wouldn’t hurt a fly and, from what she had heard, was probably the one person Lapis trusted most in this world. Peridot frowned. Lapis didn’t even seem to _like_ her. Why would she have shown her more trust than Steven?

     She was shaken by her reverie as the bus pulled up, sinking low to the ground with a tired hiss from its wheels and doors. She blinked behind her glasses, realizing she had stopped to stand at the bus stop out of habit, and that this was the line that would take her out past Diamond Street, where her old apartment had been.

     “You gettin’ on, kid?” The bus driver was impatient. Peridot glanced around and realized she was the only person waiting.

     “No – actually, I need to take a different line.” She coughed, embarrassed.

The driver sighed, muttering something that sounded suspiciously like “Damn tourists” as the doors squeaked closed, and the bus roared away.

     Peridot scowled after it, then turned and started the walk back to her new apartment.

     The handful of turns and half-dozen blocks went quickly. Peridot unlocked the door to the lobby and sighed, already resigned to the three flights of stairs. She started to climb.

     Something smelled excellent – a savory, garlic-meat smell with a tangy, somehow leafy undertone; a vegetable she couldn’t name. Her stomach growled as she mounted the last flight of stairs, limping as she tried not to put weight on her knee.

     She fumbled with her keys, selected the smaller one, and unlocked the door. She turned the knob and pushed, growling in frustration when it still didn’t give. Remembering how Lapis had kicked the door (and noting the smutches of dirt and assorted footprints a few inches up from the bottom), Peridot gave it a ram with her shoulder. It banged open suddenly, and she stumbled into the room.

     Lapis looked up from the table, a tiny bite of food on a spoon halfway to Malachite’s mouth, and glared. Peridot thought of a perturbed cat. Ignoring the way her mouth watered at the smell drifting in from the pans on the stovetop, she closed the door carefully behind her and locked it, clearing her throat self-consciously.

     She made her way into the kitchen and started to put her groceries away in the shortest cabinet. Lapis didn’t comment, just continued to feed Malachite, occasionally stopping to eat a bite of food herself.

     “What is it?” Peridot asked, jerking her head towards the stove. “It smells delicious.”

     Lapis looked irritated at the awkward attempt at conversation.

“Laulau,” she said without further explanation, then went back to eating a spoonful of rice.

     Peridot hurriedly shoved her Ramen into the cabinet. She would eat when Lapis was out of the kitchen; she would be embarrassed to microwave her instant noodles in front of this obviously good cook.

     The silence was broken by Malachite, who said “Mama, eat!” and then continued to babble in a mixture of nonsense English and Hawaiian.

     Peridot turned and scuttled out of the kitchen to her room. Unpacking would be easier than trying to keep her head around Lapis, even if she went hungry for a couple hours.

 

                                                                   *   *   *   *   *

 

Over the next few weeks, Lapis grew more and more unsettled by her new housemate. There were undeniable signs of Peridot in the apartment – her groceries in the cabinet, her empty bags of Doritos in the trash, her lime-green toothbrush in the bathroom, her unwashed dishes in the sink and unwashed socks in the hallway, which she kicked off along with her beat-up Converse before entering her bedroom. She didn’t respect the Hawaiian tradition of not wearing shoes in the house, and Lapis didn’t ask her to; she just grew exponentially more annoyed every time she wiped dusty size 5 sneaker prints off the wood floors.

     Worse than the physical signs was the stranger’s presence Lapis could feel pervading the rooms, the constant danger of inviting a person she knew next to nothing about to share her living space. The unfamiliar smells that drifted in from the kitchen at odd hours of the night, one, two in the morning; the strange, electronic music that sounded like heavily remixed jazz. She heard it occasionally, to her ears tinny and quiet, but obviously being pounded as loudly as possible through a pair of cheap headphones. Although she rarely saw Peridot, all of this added up to an implacable feeling of unease; an erasure of home that drove Lapis to take Malachite to the beach more and more often and almost look forward to going to work.

     Peridot, on the other hand, seemed to be trying as hard as she could to win her over. She washed the dishes that she rarely used exactly twice a week without prompting, following some erratic schedule that Lapis never figured out. It always surprised her when she came home from work to find the sink gleaming and empty, the drainer piled high with scrubbed pots and pans, the kitchen smelling of soap. Sometimes she would leave flowers in a cup in the living room or on the kitchen table, a gesture that Lapis supposed should be touching because it was obviously for her benefit; Peridot clearly didn’t care about flowers, didn’t know that you should cut the stems at a diagonal, or that you had to remove all the leaves below water level to keep them from rotting. Lapis did this herself, added sugar and vinegar to the water to feed the flowers, and replaced their water every day. She resented the extra living things unwittingly brought under her responsibility, but couldn’t bring herself to let them die.

     In some strange permutation of logic Lapis didn’t understand, Peridot seemed to take her unwillingness to kill the bouquets as an invitation to be around her as often as possible. She’d come home from work or college in the late afternoons, usually before Lapis went to work, and would awkwardly perch on the arm of the couch or the edge of the coffee table, her computer bag and backpack lying abandoned on the floor. She would talk to Lapis as she moved about the kitchen or the living room, even when she was making an effort to cultivate an appropriately chilly silence, chattering incessantly. It was exhausting, but the fact that Peridot didn’t push her for answers or insist that she try and converse back made it bearable. In a way, it was almost nice to have another human voice in the apartment, as mindless as the radio. She talked about _everything_ , from computer programming to music scales to the scientific analyses behind weather cycles, barely pausing for breath and only stopping when she seemed to want an answer from Lapis, which never came. Sometimes she directed silly questions at Malachite.

     “What’s your shirt?” she asked once, pointing to the Polynesian tattoo-style pattern of a turtle on Malachite’s chest. When the baby opened her mouth and let out a monosyllabic chirp in reply, Peridot moved her pointer finger up, gently chucking the underside of her nose. Mala thought this wonderfully clever, and laughed with enough delight to make Lapis smile. She hid it quickly under her hand, before Peridot saw.

     Once, there was a folded twenty-dollar bill on the kitchen table. At first, Lapis thought Sadie had forgotten her pay from last night’s sitting for Mala, and she dialed the number of the donut shop, bouncing the baby on her hip.

     The phone rang twice before Sadie’s voice crackled on, laughingly admonishing. “Lars, lay off, I have to take this-“ she heard, muffled as if a hand were pressed over the receiver.

     “Hello, this is the Big Donut. Would you like to place a pick-up order?” Slightly out of breath.

     “Aloha kakahiaka, Sadie, it’s Lapis. Did I forget to give you money last night? For watching Malachite?”

     There was a pause, a sound like a stool being pushed back.

“Nope, you handed it to me just before I left, like usual,” she said, kind voice slightly puzzled. “Why?”

     Malachite squirmed, chubby legs kicking in consternation at Lapis’s side. She placed her down and let her crawl, watching her carefully to make sure she didn’t falter on the slippery tiles of the kitchen floor.

     “I just forgot. I, ah, went to bed late last night. Wanted to make sure you got paid.”

She could practically hear Sadie smiling through the phone.

     “Thanks, Lapis, I appreciate it! I got the money though. Give me a call whenever you need me to sit again.”

     Lapis hung up, puzzled, eyeing the money on the table. Unless a benign burglar had climbed through the third-story window to deposit money instead of stealing, the only option was Peridot.

     Instead of going to the beach, she waited on the couch for Peridot to get back. She sang to Malachite, top 40 radio hits that she translated into Hawaiian. Though they were all about boys falling in love with unattainable girls, Lapis found they gained a certain sweetness through the novelty. Mala was entranced, laughing and clapping her hands.

     After the four o’clock sunlight had faded, dipping out of sight below the kitchen window, Lapis heard the key jiggling in the lock. The door was given a violent shove, and Peridot stumbled in, a computer bag slung over her skinny shoulder, clutching her knee with one hand and her key in the other.

     Lapis cleared her throat from the couch. Peridot’s eyes flicked to her, and her hand flew from her knee, pushing her glasses up the bridge of her nose.

     “Lapis!” she exclaimed, nasally voice surprised. “Hello! I, ah, didn’t expect – that is, you’re usually not –“

     Lapis ignored her vocal fumbling and stood up, grabbing the forgotten money off the couch cushion next to her and holding it out.

     “What is this?”

Peridot’s face, surprised silly at being interrupted, cleared.

     “Oh! I, ah, recently got a raise. I figured since I had a little extra, you know, I might as well help out - you could use it to buy – groceries?” Her voice faltered, her confident, overbitten smile growing tentative and then disappearing altogether. Lapis felt her face grow strained and hot, knew her eyes were narrow and her cheeks red.

     “You know, I’m actually perfectly capable of taking care of myself and my daughter,” Lapis started, making her voice flat and biting as ice. “I’ve done it for a while now.”

     Peridot started to speak, fumbling, but didn’t even get past the first garbled syllable. “I-“

     She crossed the distance between them in two steps, crushing the bill in her fist.

“Let me make this clear. I don’t. Want. Your. Charity,” she hissed, emphasizing each word through gritted teeth.

     Peridot looked mortified, her eyebrows knitting together, cheeks under her numerous freckles flushing darkly. Lapis was close enough to count them, close enough to note the flicks of gold and brown in her green eyes. Close enough to see herself reflected in Peridot’s green-tinted glasses, her pupils, dilated huge and dark. Lapis held her gaze for a second, dropping the money on the floor, before turning deliberately and scooping Mala from the floor. To her surprise, her daughter’s face was crumpled, and as she was picked up she began to cry. Lapis hurried to her room, whispering comforts and kissing her, while Mala buried her face in Lapis’s shoulder, tiny hands opening and closing around the air, grasping at nothing.

     Her cheeks and ears stayed hot for hours afterwards.

The next day, Peridot disappeared earlier than usual, before sunrise. Lapis went to the beach for surfing lessons, leaving Mala with Sadie on the beach, the fair-skinned girl slathered with sunblock underneath an umbrella. When they returned to the apartment, Mala was energetic, asking for a snack and throwing clumps of wet sand from her bathing suit that Lapis had done her best to brush off.

     She found a card on the table – a large sheet of paper that had been folded in half, with a bright crayon drawing on the front. Frowning, she picked it up to study it closely, and recognized Steven’s bubbly cartoon style. The drawing was of Lapis and Peridot, smiling at each other, anime-style eyes bright, holding hands, surrounded by flowers and hearts. She snorted.

     She tossed the card down on the table and put Mala in her high chair, peeling a banana and giving her half to work on. She chewed it enthusiastically, smearing some on the tray and in her hair.

     She picked the card up again, opened it. The inside was a short message composed in Peridot’s longhand, spidery scrawl.

     _Lapis,_

_I’d like to sincerely apologize for last night’s debacle. I realize now that what I perceived as a helpful gesture was ultimately construed to be disrespectful. I didn’t mean to suggest I thought you incapable of anything, or offend you in any way. I’m very sorry. Peridot._

_P.S. A secondary apology for the outside of this card; it was Steven’s idea. And his drawing._

Lapis squeezed the card into a ball and tossed it in the recycling. A bit ridiculous that Peridot couldn’t even be bothered to apologize to her face.

     She picked up Mala under the arms to carry her to the bathroom, the baby laughing happily and leaving a smear of banana on her arm.

     Lapis didn’t need Peridot’s apology anyway. The fact that she was living here at all was only temporary; once the real summer crowd came in to live in their usual three-month beach houses and she could get more surfing students, she could afford to pay the rent herself.

     She ignored the deflating feeling in her stomach.

_No one else to do the dishes, no more endless chattering. No more flowers._

     She scowled fiercely, putting Mala down on the floor. None of that. She would be happy to live alone again – Peridot was nothing to her.

     _Nothing but a loud, obnoxious inconvenience._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hey guys!! 
> 
> i've been settling back into this story and it's been easy writing lately, so i'm gonna try and update every week - ten days! 
> 
> also, this is technically the first half of a chapter i split, so please let me know if you notice any issues with the flow of the story/think i could change anything to make it better!
> 
> as always, any comments are super appreciated but criticism makes me super happy <3
> 
> *chapter title: hilopaliku alanui - rocky road


	3. holomua

Peridot did her best to make Lapis happy, despite a worrisome feeling that she wasn’t succeeding in the slightest. The dishes were her own initiative, of course; she felt it was her obligation as a housemate to do at least some of the chores. She only washed when Lapis was out of the house, most of the time at night. She usually alternated Wednesdays and Fridays with Tuesdays and Thursdays. She could almost always hear the babysitter, a cheerful, pale girl who she’d seen working on the rare occasion Steven dragged her to the Big Donut, singing a silly pop song to Malachite. _Haven’t you noticed I’m a star? I’m coming into view as the world is turning._ Often she hummed along under her breath without noticing.

     The flowers were Steven’s idea. He had told her Lapis loved plants, and she believed him, noting the numerous lush houseplants that hung from plastic baskets and pushed roots out of cracked pots, thriving despite their shabby housing in the kitchen and bathroom.

     She detoured to the florist on Bay Boulevard on her way home from work one afternoon. Coughing at the cloying smells of a thousand different flowers that surrounded her, stacked on shelves, she browsed quickly. She picked out a mixed bouquet of roses and about three other kinds of flowers she couldn’t name.

     The girl at the register, chewing a wad of gum, smiled at her as she wrapped the flowers in a piece of brown paper.

     “Bringing these home for someone special?” she asked, blowing a large pink bubble out of the side of her mouth.

     A warm feeling welled up in Peridot’s chest. She stamped it out mercilessly, but couldn’t help her reply to the cashier.

     “In a manner of speaking, yes.”

She took them back to the apartment and debated what to do with them. She could lay them on the kitchen table in their paper cone, but they might wilt or be crushed. She took the biggest jar she could find out of the cabinet and put them in that, paper and all.

     “That doesn’t look right,” she muttered, and took the flowers out. The paper came off. She let it. You were supposed to put flowers in water, weren’t you?

     She filled the jar generously with water from the sink and settled the bouquet in, placing it on the kitchen table.

     This became almost a weekly ritual, though neither of them actually mentioned it to each other. Peridot didn’t understand the magic that Lapis employed to keep each bouquet alive for six, seven days at a stretch, but she was glad she took the time to at all.

     The people in the flower shop came to recognize her. During her third trip in, the girl at the register grinned foxily.

     “Whoever’s on the other end of this relationship is pretty lucky, getting flowers every week. He’s a romantic like you, huh?”

     Annoyed, Peridot lifted her chin and blurted out the first thing that came into her head.

     “She, actually.”

The girl glanced up quickly.

     “Ohhhh. Sorry then. For assuming.” She looked at Peridot, eyes sharp.

Peridot didn’t make eye contact as she took the flowers, cheeks red.

     “No problem,” she muttered. She swung out of the shop, walking fast, the cheery bell dinging as the door swung shut, blowing stray leaves and petals around her feet.

     _Why did I even say that?_ Lapis wasn’t hers. They weren’t in a relationship; they honestly had nothing but Steven binding them, and that was a tenuous link at best. She had no business, no _right_ to let rude people assume that she was – they were –

     She shook her head, cheeks still hot, frustrated but not wanting to name the reason.

     She started to actively try spending more time with Lapis, working out when she was free from work and meeting her in the living room when she came to feed Malachite lunch. She talked, tentatively at first, then with more enthusiasm as Lapis did nothing to deter her. Her roommate never said anything back, but Peridot could tell she wasn’t being ignored by the way Lapis always watched her from under her bangs and the little gestures of her shoulders, the way she jerked her head occasionally in silent response. Malachite was much happier to interact; if she crawled into the living room from the kitchen, Peridot would sit on the floor with her and either talk to her or listen while she talked and made sounds at breakneck speed.

     She would ask Lapis things sometimes, expecting an answer but never getting one. She tried not to be discouraged by the silence, and instead worked to keep Lapis’s attention, as hard as it was proving to be.

     Unfortunately, it didn’t seem to be working so well. After four days of nonstop chattering, she could feel her own energy waning, her throat was sore, and Lapis seemed no more inclined to be friendly.

     At work, she poked unenthusiastically at some stubborn wiring.

“Peridot, are you ill?” Pearl asked, pausing as she walked by. “You sound hoarse.”

     She looked up.

“I’m fine.” She cleared her throat, annoyed at the scratchiness of her voice.

     Pearl surveyed her.

“Well. Call me tomorrow before you come in and let me know how you’re feeling then.”

     Peridot scowled and bent back over her work.

Then came the money disaster. She had just finished fixing the maladjusted software in someone’s laptop, the satisfying ping of an anti-virus program done downloading. She was cramming her phone into her pocket, not bothering to clean the tools off her workstation, when Pearl came up to her tiny office, tapping her knuckles lightly on the doorframe.

     “Hi. What’s up?” Peridot asked, slightly annoyed. She honestly wanted to get home as fast as possible, and hoped Pearl wasn’t about to ask her to stay and work extra this week.

     Pearl smiled, walking into the room and perching lightly on Peridot’s chair.

“Well, Peridot, it seems to me you’ve been working very hard lately. Your customer service has –“ she frowned slightly. “Well, let’s just say it’s much improved.”

     Peridot waited for her to finish, thinking cringingly about the times she’d lost her temper with rude customers. After the first four times she called them clods – well, her part-time duties as a cashier hadn’t lasted very long.

     Pearl rubbed her bindi reflexively with her thumb, an automatic action she didn’t seem to notice. Appearing to move on from her dwelling on Peridot’s social shortcomings, she forced a smile.

     “Anyway, I wanted to offer you a raise.” Their eyes met as Peridot’s head snapped up, disbelieving. There was slight concern in Pearl’s gaze. “Not to be overly invested in your personal business,” she said frankly, “but I heard you need it.”

     Peridot flushed lightly. Of course. Steven.

She cleared her throat and managed a small, “Wow, thanks.”

     Pearl gave her extra that night; not much, but enough to put a spring in her step as she walked home, humming through her nose.

     She had thought of how Lapis was obviously exhausted, how she was barely in the house between whatever jobs she constantly worked, the perpetual bags under her eyes, the way the rested her head on her pillowed arms or her hand or the table when she thought no one was looking, as if by lowering her face she could snatch a few minutes of precious sleep.

     She had left a twenty on the table in the kitchen after some debate, figuring Lapis was more likely to accept her help if she didn’t aggravate her with some awkward confrontation.

     She came back from school the next day, the summer sun glancing blindingly off the water and the cars that trundled like bright beetles along clogged streets. She limped, a horrible sharp stabbing in the stub of her bone. She climbed the stairs more slowly than she thought possible, pausing to sag against the wall outside the apartment door.

     Eventually she shoved her key into the lock and tried to open the stubborn door, gripping her knee tightly as if by holding it she could end some of the pain that coursed through it in bright pulses. “Come on you _clod,_ ” she muttered, giving it a sharp shove with her shoulder –

     And she stumbled in, leg giving out, barely catching herself. Someone coughed lightly. She looked up to see the baby playing on the floor and Lapis on the couch, face closed and curious.

     “Lapis!” she exclaimed, thanking whatever was up there that her voice didn’t crack at that particular moment. She pushed her glasses up. “I, ah, didn’t expect – that is, you’re usually not – “

     Lapis stood, neatly truncating her train of thought. “What is this?” She held the money out in the tips of her fingers.

     Peridot smiled in her hurry to explain. “Oh! I, ah, recently got a raise. I figured since, you know, I had a little extra, I might as well help out.” Lapis was still, her eyes shadowed by her long bangs. “You could use it to buy – groceries?” There was a very heavy pause. Peridot felt something in her shrink as Lapis looked up, her cheeks red, and her eyes weren’t angry – they were _murderous._ The smile dropped off her face.

     “You know, I’m actually perfectly capable of taking care of myself and my daughter. I’ve done it for a while now,” Lapis said. No infliction in her voice. The room temperature plummeted, hovering somewhere around absolute zero, and Peridot felt goosebumps prickle down her back even as heat flooded her face.

     She had obviously miscalculated, and badly. She tried to speak. “I-“

Lapis stalked over, leaned down, and she barely had time to inhale before her furious face was directly in front of Peridot’s. Some rip-roaring part of her brain acknowledged stupidly that this was closer than they’d ever been to each other. She felt Lapis’s breath on her face, hot and intimate, furious as a dragon, and she _felt_ her pupils dilate.

     “Let me make this clear.” Something in her gut tightened, fear and shame burning her with all the fires of hell, and still Peridot couldn’t tear her eyes from Lapis’s. They were narrowed, furious, dark as coffee. She spat the words as if they tasted bad. “I don’t. Want. Your. Charity.”

     Peridot was frozen, a statue in ice. She didn’t try to move as Lapis spun on her heel and picked up Malachite. The baby started to whimper, and Lapis kissed her tiny cheek, carrying her into her bedroom and slamming the door. It was more subdued that Peridot expected, as if all Lapis’s energy had been sapped by the effort it took to be angry.

     Peridot stood there for an indeterminate number of minutes, eyes closed, shivering, breathing, replaying the sensation of Lapis exhaling on her skin. Soft.

     She went to Steven for advice, of course. She told him about the embarrassing situation over text (eliminating some of the irrelevant details, such as how her heart hadn’t stopped pounding three hours later), and he invited her to come over in the morning.

     She knocked on the rattly screen door of the little beach house the next day, feeling the wind blowing off the water. Steven jumped off the couch and yanked open the door, his expression cheerful.

     “Hey!” he said, then noticed her face. He frowned, concerned. “That bad, huh?”

She sighed, crossing her arms.

     “Well. Any bright ideas on how I can get Lapis to _not_ want to murder me in my sleep?”

     Steven held the door open.

“C’mon in. I’ll get some lemonade.”

     Peridot didn’t bother to tell him she really didn’t drink sugar in the morning. She waited until they were both seated on Steven’s well-worn couch with two glasses of sweet lemonade sweating on the coffee table to say anything at all.

     Steven didn’t look at her expectantly, or push her to say something. He just sipped his lemonade and waited. Peridot could feel herself calming down, soothed by the sheer tenacity of his optimism.

     Eventually, she sighed.

“She won’t let me do anything to help her, and apparently everything I do offends her on a personal level.”

     Steven looked up, his long-lashed eyes serious.

“It’s hard for Lapis to trust most people, Peridot. She’s been through some really bad stuff. Scary bad.”

     Peridot sat up straight.

“Like what?”

     Steven didn’t meet her eyes, instead opting to stare at the ice cubes he was swirling in his cup with his finger. They clinked lightly against the glass.

     “I, ah, feel like I shouldn’t be the one to tell you.”

She threw her hand up in exasperation.

     “How am I supposed to help her if I have no idea what’s _wrong_ with her?” Steven winced, then just shook his head.

     “Ugh – whatever!” Peridot flopped back on the couch. She knew she was acting like a six-year-old, but she couldn’t stop herself. She glowered, looked at the ceiling, pushed her glasses up.

     Steven was sympathetic. He patted her hand.

“I know it’s rough, but give yourself a little credit! You guys’ve only been roomies for, like, three weeks.” He regarded her, offered a little smile. “Lapis probably just needs time.”

     Peridot huffed, frustrated that this fourteen-year-old was acting far more mature than she was capable of at the moment – and worse, she was aware of it.

     “Well, what do I do in the short term?” she asked snippily. “In case you forgot, Lapis pretty much wants to drown me. I don’t think _that_ just needs time.”

     Steven winced at her word choice, then his face lit up. He gasped at his idea, hands flying up to his cheeks in delight.

     “We should make her a card!”

“A…card?” Peridot repeated, skeptical. Did he really believe a piece of paper folded in half would do anything to reverse the firestorm of hostility she had awakened?

     Steven jumped up to stand on the couch cushions, rummaging in the cubbies behind the couch that were sunken in the wall. He pulled out a sketchbook, crayons, scissors, glue sticks, glitter, pencils.

     “Cards are a great way to tell someone something if you can’t be face-to-face!” He reconsidered as he spread his art supplies on the coffee table. “Or if they don’t want to see your face.”

     Peridot snorted, sinking gingerly to her knees to join him on the floor.

“That sounds about right for this situation.”

     He ripped a large sheet of paper out of his sketchbook and started to fold it.

“You write a really nice apology. Lapis’ll probably be more likely to forgive you once you’ve given her a chance to cool off,” he explained. “If you’re sincere, she’ll understand that you mean what you’re saying, and then you guys can talk about it!”

     Peridot made an uncomfortable sound in the back of her throat.

Steven looked up.

     “Hey, talking about stuff is important,” he said, uncharacteristically stern. “Garnet says the number one problem-starter in any relationship is lack of communication.”

     She resisted the urge to roll her eyes, and instead started composing her apology.

The card took almost two hours to make. She drafted rough versions of her written apology on scrap paper, and after an hour came up with something she was satisfied with. Steven decorated the outside of the card.

     She glanced over at him, busily coloring with crayons, and blushed. It was a drawing of her holding hands with Lapis surrounded by flowers, hearts, and glitter. She had read enough anime in eighth grade to know where he drew his inspiration from.

     She coughed, embarrassed, and tried to cover it.

“Where are our _noses_?”

     Steven looked at her and shrugged.

“Eh. That’s kinda part of my style lately.”

     She left the card on the kitchen table that afternoon. It disappeared without comment. _Maybe she accepted the apology, and she just doesn’t want to address it again?_

     She worked well beyond the end of her shift that night, trying and failing to think of a new way to get on Lapis’s good side. By the time she got off the bus, stretching her tight hamstrings and the crick in her back, the sun was low in the sky, dipping down below the tops of buildings and turning the clouds orange and pink.

     The climb upstairs was excruciating and took ten minutes. Peridot unlocked the door, shoved it open, closed it behind her, locked it again. Lapis was sitting with Malachite at the kitchen table, eating some kind of fish-and-rice dish out of a plastic Tupperware while the baby made a mess in her high chair.

     Peridot dropped her bag and walked into the kitchen, trying very hard not to limp. She got a glass from the cabinet and filled it at the sink. She slowly sat at the table in the second plastic chair, sighing imperceptibly with relief as the weight vanished from her leg. Lapis barely glanced up. She looked exhausted – slouched down, her cheek resting on her hand, her eyes half-closed. She had been on the beach but hadn’t showered yet; Peridot could see the sand clinging to her skin, a fragment of seaweed in her hair, the outline of her bathing suit through her damp, half-transparent shirt.

     She cleared her throat.

“How was your day?” she asked awkwardly, as Lapis hunched lower in her seat, fork stabbing futilely among the barely touched food. No answer. Malachite threw a clump of rice on the floor, exclaiming, “Raiki! Ai!” Peridot took a sip of water and tried again.

     “The sunset is…colorful tonight,” she offered. “Possibly even beautiful. You know, the reason the sunset is so transformative to the sky – in regards to color, at least – is because of the light illuminating pollutants in the atmosphere as the sun –“

     Lapis, without looking up, said something directly to Peridot at last.

“E ku’u akua,” she said quietly, getting louder with each word, “will you _please_ just _shut up_?”

     Peridot’s temper broke. Her mouth hung open for a split second, her mouth twisting into a scowl, then she banged her cup down on the table. Lapis’s head snapped up as Peridot exploded, “Why are you _like_ this?”

     A few unbearable seconds of silence; even Malachite was quiet, rice halfway to her mouth, looking between both girls. Lapis was finally looking at her, expression dark and inscrutable. She blinked.

     Peridot swallowed, mouth dry.

“I’ve been trying to help you this whole time! Except you know what? _Nobody_ will tell me _how_! Steven refuses to say anything except ‘Oh, communication is important!’ but guess what? Communication doesn’t _work_ when the person you’re trying to communicate with ignores you! I haven’t even _bothered_ to ask anyone else, and you know who won’t say a word? _You!”_

     Lapis’s eyes narrowed into a glare. Now her expression was definitely angry. She opened her mouth to say something, but Peridot barreled on, finding a resentful satisfaction in voicing all her unrealized frustrations.

     “You don’t like me, that much is obvious. But I’ve done nothing but try and make you happy! I’m sorry if I did something to make you hate me – _did_ I do something?” She paused, cheeks heating up. “I just wanted to help you!”

     There was a pause. Peridot dared to hope; her voice softened.

“I - still want to help you. So,” she finally dared to raise her sight again, fixed her eyes on Lapis’s, “just tell me what you want me to do. And whatever _that_ is…I’ll do it.”

     For maybe a quarter of a second, Peridot saw some softness in Lapis’s face; a vulnerability, an emotional, _human_ look that had never been there before. She opened her mouth just barely, sucked in a tiny, surprised breath –

     And then Lapis blinked, shutting her out again, anger rising back up to swallow her voice and contort her pretty features. She stood up suddenly, her chair scraping back with a horrible little shriek on the tiles.

     “I want you…to _leave!”_

Peridot opened her mouth, fighting the urge to scream, then shut it again.

     “Okay,” she muttered, voice low with disappointment. She got up, yanked the door open, and walked out.

 

                                                                   *   *   *   *   *

 

Lapis just stood.

     Regret. First and foremost, she wished she hadn’t yelled. An image of Jasper struck her, mouth open in a scream of rage

_you little bitch you think you can keep me trapped here_

hands balled into fists

_punching, struggling, a hard slap; ice for a black eye, yellow of fading bruises on their bodies_

and she dropped back into her chair, her knees suddenly as useless as water. Her fingers trembled as she pushed them through her hair.

     Malachite gently tapped her hand on the tray of her chair. “Mama?” she asked, her voice quavering, and Lapis stood up immediately, scooping her out of the seat and holding her close with one fluid motion.

     “E kala mai ia’u, kuu kamaiki, I’m so sorry I yelled,” she whispered into her hair. Mala wasn’t crying, at least not yet, but her little fingers dug into Lapis’s arm. “It’s okay.”

     They stood like that for a few minutes before Lapis heard a timid knock on the doorframe. She looked up, remembering that she was supposed to be at work in about ten minutes.

     “Come in,” she called out, clearing her throat, voice higher than usual.

The door opened and Sadie peeked in. She looked concerned and a bit embarrassed, and entered hesitantly.

     “Uuumm…is this a bad time?”

Lapis’s ears burned. She fervently hoped Sadie hadn’t heard the whole mess.

     “No. I – ah – can you just take Mala? I’ll be back at ten,” she offered, and kissed her baby’s head as she dropped her in Sadie’s arms. She ignored the confusion written plainly on the other girl’s face as she turned and slipped out the door, barefoot, not in her uniform, and work the furthest thing from her mind. She heard Mala say, “Mahea oe e hele, mama?” and pretended that her heart didn’t break a little as she closed the door behind her.

     It was wrong for her to have lost her patience like that. She didn’t particularly care if she had offended Peridot, but she couldn’t afford to lose her roommate – and even if she did, she wouldn’t have it end like this. She would go find the younger girl and apologize. To her face.

     Shuddering at the feeling of her bare feet on the dusty carpet in the hallway, she descended the stairs quickly. She got into the lobby just in time to see Peridot disappear, the cracked pane of glass in the front door rattling as she let it slam behind her. It was almost dark out, the warmth of the sunlight gone but the streetlamps not yet on.

     She crossed the tiles, threw the door open, and several things seemed to happen at once, blurring together in the strange dusk.

     She watched Peridot step down off of the curb, head down, in perfect sync with the red car that was speeding down the road with deadly quiet. Its headlights were off, blank as closed eyes.

     Lapis didn’t have time to yell or think, just jolted down the steps, not feeling the concrete scrape a piece out of her toe as she darted out to the edge of the sidewalk. Her hand was reaching, _reaching,_ Peridot was still moving away and the car was coming and now she could hear it rushing along, _why are those hoohewaia hupo going so_ fast _,_ Peridot finally looked up, stumbling backwards but not fast enough and why was she reacting so _slowly –_

\- a horn, blaring louder than a gunshot, as she finally grabbed Peridot’s skinny wrist hard enough to bruise and jerked backwards to the safety of the sidewalk.

     The tiny girl fell backwards with a bewildered sound, landing right on her _hoki_ on the concrete, that would hurt later, but nothing was broken; she wasn’t a splattered, bloody mess on the hood of someone’s pickup. She was gloriously whole and alive. The car left without slowing, its taillights flickering as it sped away.

     Lapis just stood there, trembling with the adrenaline coursing through her. The pounding of her heart was strong enough to make her lightheaded. Peridot stared back up at her, eyes huge. A streetlamp flickered gradually on behind them, painting the street with its two-dimensional light.

     Peridot got up slowly, wincing as her leg unfolded. She stood, blinked once, and said flatly, “You just saved my life.”

     Lapis avoided her eyes, instead opting to look down at her feet. One of her toes was bleeding, leaving a rust-colored smudge on the concrete.

     “I’m – I’m sorry.” She glanced up quickly, realizing how that sounded. “Not for saving you, obviously. For, you know. Before.”

     There was an odd, mildly shell-shocked expression on Peridot’s face. Lapis thought she was still a bit out of it. The younger girl jerked her head in a nod, then, incredibly, turned and started to walk away.

     “Peridot!” Lapis called. Her back straightened, and she whipped around, eyes wide and nervous. Lapis struggled to think of something to say.

     “I - are you okay?”

Peridot stared at her for a second, her expression disbelieving, then – for some reason, Lapis thought probably an addlepated reaction to stress - she smiled, wide and genuine as her hands flew to her chest, and she _giggled_.

     Surprised, Lapis thought, _Cute –_ before she mentally slapped herself back on track. She felt herself blush. _Fuck._ Peridot was watching her, still smiling dazedly. She opened her mouth, but could only get out a nonplussed “Uuumm…”

     Luckily, the awkwardness broke as Peridot’s gaze followed Lapis’s down to her bare feet. For a split second, they both took in the concerning amount of blood seeping into the sidewalk.

     “Oh my stars, you’re hurt,” Peridot said shrilly, and Lapis almost laughed at the ridiculousness of this statement. _I’m not the one who almost got smashed into a pulp thirty seconds ago,_ she thought. She shrugged nonchalantly even as the raw pain finally started to filter through her adrenaline rush. She winced. Briefly, the thought _I’m going to be late for work_ flashed across her consciousness, but she didn’t consider mentioning it.

     “I’ll clean it up,” she said quietly, but strangely, she felt no compulsion to go inside and leave Peridot on the sidewalk.

     Peridot solved this handily.

“No, no, I’ll help you – it’s the least I can do, since this happened because of me - I know first aid, you know, Steven taught me a few of the basics when I stayed at his house last year…”

     Limping, Lapis let herself be escorted back into the lobby, feeling more than hearing Peridot’s nervous chatter wash over her. This time, for some reason, she didn’t mind it as much.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> e kala mai ia'u, kuu kamaiki - i'm sorry my baby
> 
> e ku'u akua - oh my god 
> 
> hoohewaia hupo - damned idiots
> 
> mahia oe e hele - where are you going?
> 
> as usual any comments are really really appreciated <3
> 
> *chapter title: holomua - progress


	4. lohi a me ka akahai

Over the next few weeks, things changed considerably for Peridot.

     Life in the apartment on Sunset Boulevard was _good_. She felt comfortable being in the kitchen and living room now, didn’t feel awkward or out-of-place when she wasn’t in her room, didn’t have to microwave her Ramen in the middle of the night. She still played with Malachite on the floor, talking to her, and she still did the dishes in accordance with her schedule. She still brought Lapis flowers every week. And Lapis herself, while not exactly friendly, no longer ignored Peridot or showed the previous icy, blatant dislike.

   Lapis had taken her back into the apartment after the car incident. Peridot’s head was spinning, adrenaline still so strong it made her slightly sick. The good aspect to this was that the pain hadn’t hit – though she was sure her tailbone was bruised from hitting the sidewalk, she couldn’t feel it yet, and she even lurched up the stairs without too much trouble from her knee. She winced at the blood Lapis was dripping on the carpet, even as she walked on her heel with her toes pointing upwards, not touching the ground.

     “Are you sure you’re okay?” Peridot asked hesitantly, gesturing at the ripped-up piece of Lapis’s foot that she didn’t seem to be acknowledging.

     Lapis looked over, surprised, then actually _laughed,_ a graceless snort escaping her. Peridot flushed at the way her nose wrinkled up. _Stars, she’s cute -_

     “I don’t know why you keep asking that when you’re the one who almost got hit by a car.”

   They had stumbled back into the apartment, staggering like drunks, and Sadie Miller had jumped up from the couch, eyes wide.

     “Lapis! I – your foot - what _happened?_ ” she asked, aghast, and Malachite looked up from her spot on the floor. At first, she was joyous upon seeing her mother, her tiny mouth opening into a wide smile. Then she saw the blood. Peridot braced herself.

     Lapis was already darting forward and scooping her up even as her face collapsed and she started to wail.

     “Mam _aaaaaaaaaa_ ,” the baby cried, loud and piercing. Sadie and Peridot both winced. Lapis just hushed her gently. “Koko, ke koko, ‘eha?” she inquired, interrupted by sobs.

     Lapis kissed her cheek.

“No, no, Mala, it’s okay. Malaila ka koko, aka, au i’eha. I’m fine.” The baby quieted, seemingly reassured by her mother’s unharmed upper body she was being held to. She pressed her face into Lapis’s chest, the tears slowing.

   Peridot cleared her throat, and gestured towards the bathroom when Lapis looked up. Lapis nodded, and they both shuffled into the hallway, trying not to get too close to each other.

     Sadie was still open-mouthed, and as they exited the living room she voiced a small “Uuum…”

     Peridot glanced back over her shoulder.

“Ah, sorry, we’ll just…be a second. I’m cleaning up her…” She gestured vaguely towards the floor, not wanting to risk the baby getting upset again at a direct mention.

     “Oh! Here, I can help,” Sadie said, starting to come forward.

“No! No, it’s, ah, fine,” Peridot said, her face flushing slightly.

     “Don’t worry about it,” Lapis said, slightly calmer than Peridot even now. “The bathroom’s too small for two people, let alone three.”

   After a moment’s hesitation, Sadie nodded and sat on the couch, still looking curiously after them.

   They skirted awkwardly around each other into the bathroom. Lapis hopped up backwards to sit on the tiny counter, settling Malachite on her lap. Her toe dripped, disconcertingly crimson on the tile floor.

     Peridot cleaned the wound gently, swabbing it out with a damp cloth, making sure all the dirt and grit were gone. Her feet were slim and calloused, probably by years of barefootedness, with high arches; the soles crisscrossed with small scars from similar incidents. She put iodine in the ragged cut, feeling Lapis twitch at the sting, then bandaged it.

     Peridot thought of how Lapis had avoided her eyes as she hopped down from the counter, Malachite silently watching them with wide eyes. Peridot had knelt down, wiping Lapis’s blood off the floor, and she’d heard a quiet “Mahalo.”

     She’d looked up, a question forming on her lips, but Lapis was already crossing the hall with the baby cradled to her chest. She had slipped into her bedroom and closed the door.

     Peridot sighed in frustration and took off her glasses, rubbing her eyes with the back of her hand. She still couldn’t quite wrap her head around the fact that she had very nearly been seriously injured at best, and the more probable prospect was much darker. Probably the only reason she was still present in the world was because of Lapis’s rather impeccable timing. How fragile her very existence was. If the blue-haired girl hadn’t cared enough to come after her, hadn’t seen the car, or hadn’t reacted in time –

     She shivered. Her brain, tired of dwelling on thoughts of her own very eminent death, turned back to Lapis. Of course.

     _Why am I torturing myself like this?_

Decisively, she sat up from her bed and got up. She had to get ready for work in half an hour, and she still had to eat dinner. She pulled on her shoes without bothering to tie them and clunked into the kitchen, feeling her leg tingle with underuse.

     Lapis was there at the table, scrolling through her phone with one thumb and eating a piece of what seemed to be sushi out of a tupperware. Her posture was relaxed, one leg bent under her on the chair and her back slightly slouched so she leaned on the table.

     Peridot cleared her throat. “Where’s Malachite?” she asked, rummaging in the cabinet for a package of Ramen.

     Lapis looked up. “Napping,” she said, taking in Peridot’s dietary choices with a critical eye. She suddenly pushed the container of sushi across the table.

     “Do you want some?”

Peridot straightened up and turned towards the table, readily abandoning her block of dry noodles.

     “What is it?”

“Spam musubi. Like sushi, but made without fish. It has meat, rice, nori, and a little bit of furikake.”

     Peridot picked up a piece carefully, worried the rice would fall out of its dark seaweed wrapping.

     “…Wow, thanks,” she said cautiously, not wanting to be rude but harboring a lifelong hatred of sushi. Lapis was still watching her with her dark eyes. Peridot felt heat rising under her collar.

     “It’s not poisoned, I promise,” she said shortly, and Peridot screwed up her courage and took a bite. She chewed slowly, enjoying the flavors. Rich but mostly just salty, with an odd _ocean_ taste from what she guessed was the seaweed, and a burning spiciness at the end.

     “It’s good,” she said, slightly surprised, and took another quick bite. “You made this?”

     Lapis nodded.

“It’s a really common snack in Hawai’i.”

     Peridot cleared her throat again, not quite knowing what to say and worried about talking too much. She opted to take another bite of sushi. Lapis put the lid back on the container and crossed the room, putting it back in the fridge. She brushed past Peridot on her way out of the kitchen, and she felt warmth prickle over her whole body at the brief contact. She blushed, chewing her food with a fury and turning towards the sink, glad Lapis couldn’t see.

 

                                                                  *   *   *   *   *

 

Lapis didn’t quite know what to think of her own actions.

     She had saved Peridot’s life.

 _That_ was an unexpected twist. She guessed she should feel bad about it – the thought that kept buzzing around her head was that Peridot wouldn’t have gone charging out into the street if not for her – but for some reason she didn’t. There was only surprise, and trying to make herself realize that the younger girl had come very close to death. That if she hadn’t decided to go after her and apologize, this person who was present in her life now (for better or worse) would have been absolutely erased from the world.

     Lapis shivered at the thought. She didn’t particularly _like_ Peridot (she kept telling herself this, drilling it into her consciousness), but she wouldn’t wish death on anyone. Except maybe Jasp –

     She cleared her throat and busied herself with the laundry, dumping a careless amount of powered soap into the washer on top of the pile of clothes. She remembered how gentle Peridot’s hands had been as they wrapped gauze around her toe, minimizing the pain.

     She still didn’t like having anyone in her apartment. But she supposed it could be worse – although Peridot still hadn’t directly proven herself trustworthy, Lapis found she trusted her anyway. She had left Mala with the younger girl in the stairwell on the second day they’d met, for stars’ sake. It helped that Peridot was no longer nearly as awkward around her; she apparently didn’t feel the need to chatter endlessly when they were in the same room, which made Lapis more inclined to talk to her. She was out in the open more, making food in the kitchen at normal times and sometimes tapping away at her laptop in the living room. Lapis found it made her less paranoid to be able to see her roommate occasionally.

     She closed the lid of the washer and pressed the button to start, hearing the rush of the water filling the machine. She turned back towards the laundry room door with her basket on her hip.

     She climbed the shallow flight of concrete steps out of the building’s dank basement, emerging in the lobby. Jenny Pizza, one of her upstairs neighbor’s granddaughters, was crossing the lobby on the way to the staircase. A pizza box was balanced with professional carelessness on her fingertips.

     “He-ey Lapis,” she said, her cheek dimpled with a friendly little smile. “Where’s your cutie baby?”

     “Upstairs. I left her with my roommate for a second to do laundry,” Lapis explained, feeling the tug of anxiety that always came with not having Mala in sight.

     “Oh yeah! Gunga said you had a new roommate,” she said voraciously, her eyes lighting up with the prospect of new gossip.

     Lapis nodded noncommittally, starting to climb the stairs alongside Jenny. “Well, what’s their name?” the teenager asked.

     Lapis shifted the basket in front of her to accommodate the narrow stairwell. “Peridot Olivine.”

     Jenny’s eyes widened.

“Ooh, I think I know her! She’s that short girl, right? The one who hangs around with Steven?”

     Lapis nodded again as they reached the top of the flight. Jenny lowered her voice conspiratorially.

     “Can I ask – well, is she – not the easiest person to get along with?” Surprised, Lapis turned and looked at Jenny questioningly. The dark-skinned girl put her hands up, surrendering but unembarrassed.

     “I totally get it if you, like, don’t wanna say anything. But, I mean, I was taking some summer classes with her at BCU, and tried to talk to her a bit. I figured I should say something, since we both knew Steven and all. But she didn’t even give me the time of day.”

     Lapis wondered how much to say.

“I think she’s just awkward and can seem unfriendly because of that,” she explained carefully. She shrugged. “But I don’t even know her that well.”

     Jenny grinned, seeming relieved.

“Thank god, I thought it was just me,” she said boisterously. They neared the top of the third flight, and Lapis allowed herself a slight smile.

     “Well, see ya I guess,” Jenny said as they entered the hallway.

Lapis hesitated for a second.

     “Do you want to come in? I, ah, have coffee,” she offered somewhat awkwardly. She enjoyed Jenny’s company – although on bad days the teenager’s lighthearted presence was grating, Lapis was having an up day so far.

     But Jenny shook her head.

“Love to, but I promised Gunga pizza for lunch, n’ you know she’d never forgive me if I let it get cold.” She winked, and Lapis found herself smiling again.

     She pushed open the apartment door, relieved to hear Mala babbling.

“ – Peridot. Can you say Per-i-dot?” Peridot was asking, her voice unusually soft. She stopped when she saw Lapis standing in the doorway, blinked uncertainly. Malachite saw her and reached tiny hands up towards Lapis. She smiled sunnily.

     “Mama ma a me kona a ia’u!”

Lapis dropped her basket and sank down to the floor to sit with them, Mala immediately climbing into her lap.

     “Corrupting my kid already, hmm?” she asked Peridot lightly, fluffing Mala’s hair.

Peridot cleared her throat and pushed her glasses up, a blush creeping across her face.

     “Yes. Well. I assumed that since we’re living together, it would only be practical for her to know my name.”

   Malachite laughed, loud and happy, and pointed at Peridot, making some _ppppp_ sounds.

     Lapis snorted at the put-out look on Peridot’s face. “Seems like she has a ways to go.”

     Malachite suddenly turned to face Peridot.

“Mama, curly lauoho lede!” she said, pointing at her head. Peridot reached up uncertainly and felt her hair as Lapis halfway laughed, just a smile accompanied by an exhale.

     “Yes, but what’s her name, ono?” she prompted gently, catching Mala’s tiny warm hands as they bounced expressively in the air.

     “P-p-p – Per-da!” Mala said triumphantly. They both looked up. Peridot grinned, and Lapis smiled at her without thinking. Her face flushed as Peridot looked shocked, then smiled back, her expression gentle as a butterfly.

     Then Malachite reconsidered.

“A’ole,” she said decisively. “Wahi lede.”

     Lapis looked down at her daughter in surprise, mostly just wanting an excuse to look away from Peridot, and then burst into laughter. Malachite looked up, mouth agape, and then joined her mother, giggling brightly.

     “Wait – what did she call me?” Peridot asked shrilly, half-indignant at the mirth that shook her shoulders. Lapis tried to speak, but snorted instead. Her hand flew to her face, and she pressed it hard over her mouth as she tried to contain her laughter.

     Peridot was half-smiling as Lapis finally got herself under control.

“Sh – she called you – “ Lapis snorted again, then took a deep breath. “Tiny lady,” she finally got out.

     There was a brief silence before she burst out laughing again at the expression on Peridot’s face.

     The younger girl shook her head, her sour frown softening as she looked at Malachite, who was sucking on her fingers as she giggled.

     “You’re lucky you’re so cute,” she said, pretending to be disgruntled.

Lapis finally got herself under control, though she still smiled as she slouched down to kiss Mala on the top of the head.

     “Well, she knows how to make the _p_ sound now,” she said to Peridot. “It’s a start.”

 

                                                                     *   *   *   *   *

 

It was Saturday morning. Peridot had no weekend classes and no work until her night shift. She was sitting cross-legged on her bed, procrastinating and enjoying the relaxed pace of the day.

     “Come on you clod,” she said under her breath, struggling to wrap a miniscule piece of electrician’s tape around the loose wiring in her headphones.

     Her knee had calmed down and was acting reasonable again, but the skin on her leg was red and irritated from the ill-fitting socket. She had taken off her prosthetic, pretending not to notice the inflammation, and it was leaning against the side of her desk.

     She unstuck the tape from her finger and wrapped it neatly, bringing the wiring together snugly. _Almost got it –_ she started to slip the wires back into the protective tube –

     A knock startled her, the series of light taps on her doorframe causing her to drop the headphones on her lap.

     “One second!” she called, trying not to let her panic show in her voice. She whipped the blankets on the bed over her leg, and then quickly threw a sweatshirt over her prosthetic. She shoved a pillow to the floor to make the messiness more believable, then picked up her headphones again.

     “Come in,” she said, heart hammering. Lapis opened the door and peeked in, a cloth bag slung over her shoulder. She was wearing shorts and a blue one-piece bathing suit. Malachite toddled into view around her ankles, dressed in a tiny bathing suit of her own.

     “I have some surfing lessons in a little bit,” Lapis started, stepping forward to lean against the doorframe. Malachite started to crawl into the room, but Lapis caught her and swung her up deftly. The baby squirmed but didn’t complain.

     “Anyway,” Lapis hesitated, then finished quickly, “want to come to the beach with us?”

     Peridot blinked, surprised. _I have a bunch of work to do,_ she thought – plus spontaneous combustion seemed a likely fate if she had to see Lapis in a bathing suit for more than three minutes at a time. She opened her mouth to say no.

     Lapis wasn’t looking at her, and instead let her finger be engulfed by Malachite’s tiny hand, bouncing the baby on her hip as she waited for an answer. She looked…worried?

     _Of course she’s worried – she works two jobs and still has no money. She’s probably asking me to come with so that she doesn’t have to pay a babysitter,_ Peridot realized.

     She sighed inaudibly.

“Sure. I’ll come to the beach with you,” she said, trying to keep her voice steady. Lapis looked up, disbelieving. “Just give me a minute to get ready.”

     Lapis nodded once, then met Peridot’s eyes. She smiled, small but genuine. “Great,” she said softly, then left the room, closing the door behind her.

     Peridot dropped her headphones, threw the sweatshirt off her prosthetic, and strapped it on. She poked through a pile of laundry on her floor, trying to find her baggiest pair of jeans.

     Lapis was waiting out in the living room when Peridot came out of her room a few minutes later. She scooped Malachite off the floor and settled her into a sling around her chest as Peridot opened the front door.

     “Makai akua, you’re getting too big for this,” Lapis exhaled, picking up her tote bag and walking out. Peridot carefully locked the door behind them, tucked her key into her pocket. Lapis made her way down the stairs.

     They walked out onto the street together, Lapis waiting for her at the bottom of each stairwell.

     “So, how far is the beach?” Peridot asked as she realized they were heading in the opposite direction from the nearest bus stop.

     “Three blocks,” Lapis said, glancing over. “You can see the water from here.” She pointed at the thin line of shimmering blue in the distance, just visible where the buildings turned squat and weather-beaten as the boardwalk began. Peridot nodded, and they lapsed out of conversation. She looked down and noticed Lapis’s feet were bare. The scrape on her toe had healed quickly and was free from its protective gauze, with only a dirty Band-Aid plastered over it now.

     Malachite broke the awkward silence.

“Kahakai, mama! Makemake i ka ‘au’au!”

     Lapis answered something in quick Hawaiian, the strange vowels moving fluidly over her tongue.

     Peridot tried to keep up, interested but not knowing exactly what to ask.

“What did she say?” she said finally.

     Lapis glanced over as if she had forgotten Peridot was there.

“Oh – she just wants to get to the water,” she said, slowing down to match Peridot’s short-legged pace. “She can’t swim yet, but I let her play in the waves,” she added, smoothing Mala’s hair.

     Peridot nodded, searched for something to say.

“When did you learn to swim?”

     Lapis looked at her like this was an odd question.

“Before I learned to walk,” she said. “The ocean was my favorite place when I was little.” She looked down, avoiding Peridot’s eyes, and quickly changed the subject.

     “What about you?”

Peridot swallowed, embarrassed.

     “Oh – I, ah, don’t swim. I ca – nobody ever had time to teach me.”

Lapis didn’t say anything. Peridot felt another awkwardness settle between them. She was afraid trying to break it would make it worse, so instead focused on watching the distant dusky stripe where the sky kissed the water.

     They walked for another few minutes, the block swallowed up by silence. They got to the street that ran parallel to the waterside and crossed to the boardwalk. It was busy, but Lapis quickly slipped through, easily sidestepping the dense knots of people. Peridot tried not to sigh and instead focused on following.

     She moved awkwardly through, bumping shoulders with quick-moving pedestrians and getting in the way of tourist families burdened with backpacks and throngs of sunburnt children. She hopped casually down onto the sand a minute later and felt it shift under her feet –

     Red pain bloomed in her knee with the suddenness of a gunshot, and she felt it buckle outwards as she fell gracelessly. She hit her elbow on the rough wood of the boardwalk on her way down.

     “ _Fuck –“_ she hissed, then caught herself. Lapis was there suddenly, with the baby still in her sling and a look of concern on her face. Peridot glared at the sand in embarrassment and tried to get up, but sank back to the ground, gripping her knee hard enough to leave a mark.

     “What’s wrong?” Lapis’s voice was worried.

“It’s just my knee,” Peridot said through gritted teeth, fighting the watering in her eyes.

     Lapis offered her hand. Peridot shook her head.

“I can do it myself, thanks,” she said tightly, and used the edge of the boardwalk to pull herself up despite the pain in her elbow. Her leg throbbed.

     Lapis shrugged, her eyes holding a strange mix of hardness and pity. Peridot loathed the look. She pretended not to limp as they walked to the middle of the beach.

     Lapis put Malachite down on the edge of a faded blue blanket she had spread. The baby started to pick up handfuls of sand. Lapis turned to Peridot.

     “And you don’t mind watching her?” she asked, dark eyes not quite vulnerable but somewhere close. Peridot shook her head.

     “It’s really fine. It’s better than sitting in my room all day.” She probably didn’t spend enough time outside, and figured she didn’t need a vitamin D deficiency on top of all the rest of her body’s nonsense.

     Lapis considered this for a moment, shading her eyes with her hands to look up at the sky. It was a deep sapphire blue, with a few fluffy clouds low on the horizon, and two white gulls circled overhead. Lapis finally nodded, then bent down to kiss Mala’s head.

     “I’ll be back in an hour, ko’u nani bebe,” she said to her daughter, and then to Peridot, “Anything she needs is in the bag, she’ll ask for it.” Peridot nodded.

     Lapis paused for a second, seemed to consider something, and then closed her mouth without saying anything. Turning away, she walked to the ocean.

     Peridot sat awkwardly, one leg straightened, holding her knee as the pain ebbed slowly away. Smiling, Malachite looked at her and crawled over, a handful of sand trailing away across the blanket.

     “What do you think of the beach?” Peridot asked Malachite as the baby trickled the few grains of sand she had salvaged onto the folds of her jeans.

     “Aloha aku i ke kahakai!” Mala said enthusiastically, patting the blanket and groping around for more sand. Her eyes landed on a pebble, and she picked it up, bringing it to her mouth.

     “No no no no,” Peridot said quickly, taking it out of her hand. “If you choke under my supervision, my temporary stay on this planet will be greatly and dramatically shortened.”

     Mala looked at her, her round eyes huge and dark.

“Ka wai?” she asked hopefully. “Ka wai, hiki makou ‘au’au?”

     Peridot shook her head in frustration.

“I don’t know?” Absurdly, she was embarrassed that she couldn’t answer this toddler in Hawaiian. She wished fervently she had learned a second language.

     Then Malachite pointed back towards the waves.

“Water, swim please?” she asked, her words carefully overenunciated.

     Peridot gaped. Then she threw her head back and laughed at the irony of the situation; she had been worried about the baby not understanding _her!_

     “Yes. Let’s go let you swim,” she said, standing with some effort. Malachite laughed in delight, then clambered to her feet and started to run wobblingly but with alarming speed towards the water.

     _Oh my stars, she’s going to drown!_ Peridot tried not to panic and instead called, “Malachite, stop!” as she hobbled after her, as fast as she could make herself go.

     The baby stopped, surprised, and then turned to look. Peridot reached her and scooped her up under the arms. She didn’t know exactly how to hold her, or where her arms should go. She wrapped them awkwardly around Mala’s chest, letting her legs dangle. The baby kicked, opened her mouth, and started to fuss.

     “’A’ole! Down! _”_ she said, and Peridot winced at the threat of tears in her voice. Heads started to turn as she began to wail, getting louder with each wordless protest.

     “Sshh, shhh, let’s go to the water,” she said soothingly, and then awkwardly hoisted the baby up to her hip as she had seen Lapis do so casually every day. She curled one arm under her chubby legs and the other around her little back, listing to one side as she settled the baby’s surprising weight.

     Thankfully, Malachite quieted and stopped struggling, comforted by the more secure position as they approached the edge of the tideline. Peridot paused just before the waves reached them, watching the thin sheet of water and foam strain forward as far as it could over the slick sand before rushing back to meet the sea.

     She didn’t kick off her shoes, left them on as she stepped hesitantly into the rush of the next after-wave, putting Malachite down but still restraining her under the arms. The baby started to wiggle free as she felt the water on her bare toes.

     “Here, hold my hands, okay?” Peridot asked, briefly relinquishing her hold to grab onto Mala’s tiny hands. After a moment, the pudgy little fingers complied, wrapping around Peridot’s.

     “O’ay,” the baby said, and together they walked into the surf.

 

                                                           *   *   *   *   *

 

Lapis rode the last wave in, crouching low and hopping off her board as she felt the familiar shock of its impact with the sand. She breathed deeply, taking in the imprinted smells of the seaweed and the surf. The wind tousled her hair as she scanned the crowd for Peridot and Malachite. She didn’t see them among the afternoon sunbathers, who were all clustered together in families. She felt the first flutter of anxiety behind her ribs.

     _Did she just wander off somewhere?_

She tried not to work herself into a panic, and locked up her surfboard shed as quickly as possible. The metal key bit into her hand as she spun on her heel and hurried down the beach.

     “Perido –“ she started to call as she reached the blue blanket, and then she stopped. Her mouth fell open, the fear ebbing away.

   They were both sleeping soundly. The blue-sky sun was shining in their hair, brushing them with light as rich as if they were the subjects of a painting. Peridot was flat on her back with one arm curled against her chest and the other stretched to the side. Glasses askew, and breath coming in steady, reedy whistles through her nose. Mala was curled against her side, tiny head practically buried in her own hair and pillowed on Peridot’s outstretched arm.

     For some undefined passage of time, Lapis just looked, letting the shouts and conversations of other beachgoers fade into white noise, meaningless as the wailing of the gulls. Her daughter looked as she always did asleep, her tiny face round and peaceful, hands curled into relaxed half-fists.

     But Peridot looked entirely different. Posture soft and lacking the stiffness she usually carried, her small body settled more comfortably than Lapis had ever seen, as if she was relieved of some pain. Her face wasn’t pinched with concern, her lips slightly parted as she breathed a gentle rhythm. Eyelids soft, eyelashes long as they caught the light, the space between her eyebrows smooth and unworried. The sun accentuated the golden-brown of her skin, bringing out her darker freckles like splatters of paint on a palette. A few loose curls had crept down onto her forehead, brushed her cheeks on either side.

     _Pretty._

The spot in her chest where panic had recently resided was filling with something else, a warm and soft thing that bloomed like a flower. Her heart beat faster. Slowly, with the feeling of a feather lifting, she smiled.

     Trying not to disturb them, Lapis sank onto the sand, feeling the warmth on the back of her thighs as she sat off to one side of the blanket. She hugged the tops of her knees and let her chin rest on her folded forearms. She felt something that she hadn’t in a long time. The sun caressed the side of her face, painting her with long strokes of impressionistic gold.

     Peridot stirred, stretching her short limbs as if she were moving through honey. Her eyes fluttered open. Turning her head away from the sun, she looked straight at Lapis without really seeing her, eyes still full and bright with dreams.

     Lapis’s breath caught somewhere in her throat. So soft.

Then Peridot’s gaze snapped into focus. She startled like a dragonfly spooked off a reed, her posture stiff and awkward again as her head jerked up. Mindful of Malachite, who turned her head but didn’t wake, she glanced down and made sure not to move her arm.

     “Stars, you almost gave me a heart attack,” she muttered.

Lapis shook her head, trying to clear it out. The warm sunset in her chest was fading quickly.

     “Sorry,” she said shortly as Peridot propped herself up on one elbow.

They said nothing for a moment, both watching Malachite sleep.

     “We should go home,” Lapis said finally, shifting to her knees. “Did you let her in the water at all?”

     Peridot jerked her head in a slightly sardonic nod.

“I don’t see how I would have avoided it,” she said, stifling a yawn. “This kid is at least ten percent aquatic.”

     Lapis smiled in spite of herself, realizing she should probably be annoyed that Peridot had fallen asleep on the job.

     “She gets that from her mama,” she said, and leaned over Peridot to pick up Malachite.

     Lapis noticed how sharply Peridot inhaled during the brief time of that lean. Her damp bathing suit grazed the other girl’s shirt, and she shivered as she lifted Mala slowly over. Peridot sat up once the baby was no longer leaning on her, shaking out her arm.

     “Mama,” she mumbled sleepily, her head coming to rest on Lapis’s shoulder as she gently took a handful of her mother’s hair.

     Lapis stood, and after a second’s hesitation, reached down to Peridot, offering.

The younger girl looked up from adjusting her glasses, surprised. Slowly and with deliberate gentleness, as if reaching out to some shy wild animal, she took Lapis’s hand.

     Peridot’s hand was tiny in hers, with a square palm. Her fingers were small too, at least a knuckle shorter. Lapis wrapped her own around them. They were warm, from the sun or maybe her body temperature just ran a little high, and seemed to burn against her cool skin.

     She blushed and yanked Peridot to her feet a bit too quickly.

The younger girl exclaimed, teetering, and Lapis quickly dropped her hand.

     “Sorry,” she mumbled as Peridot regained her balance.

“It’s fine,” Peridot said after a moment’s hesitation. Either she was blushing too, or she had a touch of sunburn.

 

                                                                   *   *   *   *   *

 

Lapis started the week with a six-hour shift at the coffee shop, and it was Monday morning. Pulling on her only white shirt (a fastidious, scratchy button-down she hated with an unrivaled passion), Lapis slipped out into the hallway, buttoning as she tapped Peridot’s door with her foot.

     “Yeah,” came a preoccupied grunt from inside.

She opened the door, straightening her collar. Peridot was sitting with her back to the door, hunched over her desk. She was tapping away at her laptop, surrounded by stacks of thick books, paper clutter, highlighters, and pens. An empty bottle of Gatorade was abandoned on the floor. She looked a bit like she hadn’t slept the night before.

     She looked up as Lapis came in. Her eyes focused out of their far-away haze. She briefly ran a hand through her disheveled hair.

     “I _knew_ it was a bad decision to take this clodding sociology class,” she complained, stretching then wincing as her spine popped. “What’s up?”

     “I, ah, need to go to work in half an hour,” Lapis said, a slight prickle of shame burning her stomach at treating her roommate like a childcare service. “Could you watch Mala for a while? Just stay in the apartment with her while she naps?”

     “What time is it?” Peridot asked, glancing at her laptop. She did a double take, swearing loudly. “I have to be at class in twenty minutes! _Twenty clodding minutes! Oh,_ you absolute – “

     She sprang up, ignoring the squeak of one wheel as her desk chair rolled forlornly across the floor, and started to pick up presumably clean clothes from piles on the bed.

     “So…I’ll take that as a no,” Lapis said, trying not to smirk at the panic on Peridot’s face.

     “Ack – I’m sorry, I’d love to, but – obviously, I’m a little –“ She made a distracted shooing motion, snagging a bra from where it was hung off the end of the bedframe.

     Lapis backed out of the room.

“Good luck with that paper,” she said, trying not to grin like a complete jerk.

     She laughed at the glare Peridot shot over her shoulder, and quickly closed the door to avoid being pelted by the balled-up sweatshirt that was hurled fiercely in her direction.

     She texted Sadie Miller, who promptly replied she was at work. Undeterred, she called Steven. Someone picked up right away.

     “Hello, Universe residence,” the voice on the other end said, all polite thirteen-year-old professionalism, “Connie speaking.”

     She remembered Steven mentioning a Connie several dozen times (and since then she’d gathered that the girl was at his house almost as often as he was), but Lapis had never met her.

     “Um, hi,” Lapis said. “I was wondering if I could speak to Steven about babysitting in about twenty minutes?”

     “Babysitting! We _were_ going to do music, my mom said I could only hang out with Steven if we were being productive and I have to practice violin, but honestly I think she wouldn’t care if I babysat, that seems pretty productive to me – here, hang on a sec, let me ask Steven –“

     Blinking at the enthusiasm she could practically feel radiating from the phone, Lapis listened to the muffled voice.

     _“Steven! Would Amethyst care if we went to babysit for Lapis?”_

She didn’t hear Steven’s response to his friend, but she heard some chattering and laughter.

     “I’m putting you on speaker!”

She sighed.

     “Hey Steven, could you and Connie come and sit for Mala? It’d have to be here at my apartment, there’s not enough time to get her to your house.” She heard the disconcerting echo of her own voice.

     “Yeah, we’d love to! Amethyst says she doesn’t care if we’re out of the house,” Steven said enthusiastically. Then, more hesitantly, “We’d just have to call Connie’s mom to make sure it’s okay.”

     “Well, my shift is six hours. That’s pretty long. Do you want me to call Sadie Miller and she can come by to watch Mala when she gets out of work?”

     There was some rustling, a few seconds of muffled conversation on the other end. Then Connie’s voice came back on.

     “No, it’s okay! My mom says it’s fine as long as I can get my homework done!”

Lapis sighed in relief.

     “Ke kahi. Thank you guys so much, I’ll see you in a few. Steven, you remember which bus line comes to my apartment, right?”

     She heard a crash and a few thumps, then a door flung open in the hallway and Peridot came barreling out. She stumbled slightly, harried, zipping her bag, shoving her glasses up the bridge of her nose, trailing loose papers.

     Lapis smirked and waved lazily, barely hearing Steven’s goodbye as he named the correct bus line and hung up the phone.

     Peridot was already careening out the front door, and Lapis had a second to worry that she would fly down all three flights of stairs with her momentum. But then she closed the door carefully, without letting it slam, and took the time to lock it behind her.

     Lapis sighed, hoping Mala was still napping after that debacle. She waited for Steven and Connie at the window, watching a minute later as Peridot barely caught the bus.

 

                                                                   *   *   *   *   *

 

     Peridot hurried across the quad, squinting as her eyes adjusted to the bright glare of the midafternoon sunlight after the cool fluorescents of the classroom. She was stuffing her laptop haphazardly into its case, which swung on her shoulder, thinking scattered thoughts about class, Lapis, and which bus would run through the least traffic. The first two times, she barely registered her name being called from across the open expanse of green.

     “PERIDOT!”

She winced, startled, and turned in the direction her name had been shouted from.

     _Jasper. Perfect._

She sighed inwardly and stood, waiting, as the tall, broad-shouldered woman crossed the quad in about four steps. She and Jasper were never close, though they had known each other before college and both attended BCU; they had briefly shared an apartment when Peridot had first moved to Beach City. Jasper had landed her a job as tech support for a horribly corrupt company in her freshman year. She needed the money desperately and quit as soon as she could (the culmination of which involved several thrown shoes and Peridot calling her boss, the head of the company, a clod to her face). Jasper still worked there as far as she knew. Peridot had always considered them friends considerably less than Jasper had. She found the older girl obnoxious, overtly aggressive, and had always been slightly cowed by her – and she had been making a significant effort to avoid Jasper for a reason she couldn’t quite place ever since moving in with Lapis.

     Jasper grinned ferociously, looking down as she stopped. “Hey, shrimp, haven’t seen you in a while!” She pounded Peridot’s shoulder, friendly, with a hand big enough to crush a watermelon.

     Peridot coughed, rubbing her shoulder. “Nice to see you too,” she said, irritated, and zipped her laptop case.

     “So, how’s the livin’ in the shit pit?” Jasper asked jovially, referring to the pet name she had for Peridot’s old apartment on Diamond Street.

     Peridot swallowed. Of course the one subject she wanted to avoid would be the one Jasper brought up immediately.

     “Actually,” she said hesitantly, “I just moved out.”

Jasper flicked her huge, bleach-blonde mane of dreadlocks over her shoulder, eyes widening in surprise. She boomed a laugh. “Ha! So your roomie finally got busted, huh? Well, I’m not gonna _promote_ selling crack, exactly, but I guess it brought the rent in, right?” She laughed again, short and deep, her teeth flashing in the sun.

     Peridot jerked her head noncommittally as Jasper continued.

“So, you living by yourself, or you got a new victim?”

     “In a manner of speaking.” Peridot spoke slowly, cringing as she waited for the inevitable reaction, “I’m, ah… living with Lapis Launiu.”

     Jasper froze in surprise, good humor draining from her face as her mouth tightened dangerously.

     “You’re living with _Lapis?”_ she asked, the soft rhetoric much worse than the usual excessive loudness.

     Peridot swallowed.

“Steven Universe introduced us. He knows Lapis, he takes care of her baby sometimes – I didn’t have anyone else, there was so little time –“

     Jasper shook her head and interrupted her deliberately, slowly, a scowl twisting her face into something sour.

     “You gotta watch out for that one, Peridot. She seems like fun in the beginning, but she’s bad news.” Her nearly-black eyes glittered darkly. “Fiercer than you think.”

     Peridot glanced away, confused. _Seems like fun in the beginning?_ Then what on earth had happened to Lapis to make her the way she was now?

     “I –“ she started, but Jasper interjected suddenly with something entirely unexpected.

     “How’s the kid?” she asked, expression shifting into something odd – was it almost – wistful?

     Peridot could only sputter, confused.

“Wh – what?”

     Jasper sighed impatiently.

“The baby, nerd herd. What’s her name – Malachite. How long’s it been now, a few months? A year?”

     After a few seconds of dithering, Peridot’s confusion gave way to defensiveness on Lapis’s behalf.

     “What business is it of yours?” she shot back quickly, not bothering to hide her hostility.

     Jasper started back in obvious confusion at Peridot’s sudden change of attitude.

“What do you mean, what business –“ she started angrily. Then Peridot watched as comprehension dawned over her face. A sly look came into Jasper’s eyes, one that she didn’t like in the slightest.

     “Of course she wouldn’t’ve told you,” Jasper said, the same dangerous softness returning to her voice. “She wouldn’tve wanted her newest little girlfriend to know - it’s pretty unbecoming, isn’t it?”

     Peridot’s voice rose in pitch, panic rising in her at the sight of the odd combination of smugness and aggression on Jasper’s face.

     “What are you talking about?”

Jasper laughed without smiling, a humorless little bark.

     “Did she even tell you Malachite was hers, or what? Did she make it seem like she picked the kid up outta the cabbage fields?”

     Peridot scowled. Lapis had never directly alluded to the fact that Mala was hers biologically, but there had never really been any doubt. A suspicion was forming in Peridot’s mind, but it was one that she didn’t want to acknowledge; she shook her head, overwhelmed.

     Jasper was looking at her with something oddly like pity.

“Smart kid like you, thought you would’ve figured it out by now,” she said, her tone hard and not at all appraising. “Peridot. Malachite is mine.”

   The puzzle clicked into place. Her head spun and she shook it in helpless denial, whirling like a deranged merry-go-round of realizations. It was awful in every way, but so many more things made sense now. Peridot couldn’t believe she’d been ignoring the obvious this entire time.

     But something in Jasper’s voice, some repulsive fragment of triumph, kick-started a fire in Peridot. Malachite wasn’t Jasper’s in any way – Jasper wasn’t there to feed the baby, clothe her, change her diapers, carry her to the beach, bathe her, or kiss the wispy curls right behind the tiny shell of her ear. Jasper didn’t speak Hawaiian to her when she cried, or help pay for her or Lapis to live in this expensive and hostile world. She had been a biological factor, maybe, but nothing more. And she never would be – not if Peridot had anything to do with it.

     Her face twisted into a scowl, eyes screwed up. Heart pounding, Peridot spat, “She’s not yours. And you actually have no right to know how she is when you’ve had absolutely no part in her life after the second she was conceived.” Relishing the surprise and anger on Jasper’s face, Peridot added, “Stay away from us, Jasper.” And she turned and walked away.

     After a few seconds of speechlessness on Jasper’s part, Peridot heard her growl angrily. She tensed but didn’t turn. Suddenly, Jasper shouted, her voice loud and deep and jarring, forcing Peridot’s stomach into an unpleasant jolt.

     “Well, have fun with your slut girlfriend then! When things start to go wrong, when she hurts you, remember – I tried to warn you! She’s not a good person!” The hair on the back of Peridot’s neck prickled, but she kept walking, didn’t react to the words that hit her like blunt punches, ignored the people starting to gawk from the edges of the quad.

     “Fuck you, both of you!” Jasper yelled, voice rising. Peridot still didn’t react, though her face was flushing as her heart pounded with anger, fear, and too many revelations.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HoO bOi NoW gEt REaDy tO WaTcH THe ShiT hiT ThE FaN :))
> 
> mama ma a me kona a ia'u - mama and her and me
> 
> ko'u nani bebe - my beautiful baby
> 
> aloha aku i ke kahakai - love the beach
> 
> as always, any opinions/criticisms/comments/words are really appreciated and motivate me to work on this story!
> 
> *chapter title: lohi a me ka akahai - slow and gentle


	5. e haule ana

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> trigger warnings 
> 
> \- ableism
> 
> \- descriptions of extreme trauma and abuse

A square of late afternoon sunlight crept across the floor, bright and turning the scuffed, pale floorboards into something almost pretty.

     Mala’s head was drooping tiredly against Lapis’s arm as she read through a storybook about a mouse and a strawberry, letting Mala gently touch the bright illustrations on each glossy page. The baby was tired, having skipped her afternoon nap in favor of Steven and Connie’s unending hijinks. Lapis had to thank them – at least the baby was guaranteed to sleep through the night.

     She finished the book, closed it softly, letting the baby sag to the side. Petting Mala’s hair, she listened to the sounds of the street coming through the open window, the early summer birds and the occasional car, the hum of wind and the subdued, ever-present roar of the ocean. Peaceful. She closed her eyes.

     Then her head snapped up. The lock on the front door clicked, and Peridot shoved her way in, her face red and mouth set sour, as if she’d sucked on a lemon.

     “What’s wrong with you?” Lapis asked, half-joking. She studied Peridot’s face, noting the upset crease between her eyebrows, the wideness of her eyes looking almost…scared. “You look like you’ve seen some ghost that really knew how to piss you off.”

     Peridot snorted, setting her bag down on the coffee table.

“Not a ghost, unfortunately,” she muttered.

     Mala stirred at their voices, her eyes losing their sleepiness when she saw Peridot. She sat up.

     “Per-da!” she said happily.

“Hi, you,” Peridot said shortly, shuffling around the coffee table to sink onto the couch with them.

     There was a short silence. Lapis was curious, wondering if she should ask Peridot what was bothering her. She still looked upset, avoiding looking at either of them, fiddling with the drawstrings of her hoodie.

     Then she said the last thing Lapis expected to hear.

“Lapis…ah, clod, I don’t know how to say – well, I was wondering – what actually happened between you and Jasper?”

     Lapis felt blood drain from her head, cold dread landing a solid sucker-punch in her stomach. She blinked, and it seemed to take her an eon – she could see the apartment fade fuzzily into gray as her eyelids descended

     _a deep laugh that turned into a shout_

_beat every part of her she could reach quick do it quick before she hurts you first, hands curled into claws, she was a wild animal or they both were and she couldn’t didn’t want to stop she felt a large hand slap her face_

_everything was red on red on red –_

and she didn’t notice her arms tightening around Mala until the baby squirmed in complaint, Peridot was reaching towards her, her mouth making shapes that Lapis heard no sounds attached to –

     Peridot touched her arm and the world was restored to color and sound, all of it too bright, too loud.

     “Are you okay?” she was asking urgently as Lapis flinched away. “I just wanted to know, I ran into Jasp – “

     “Don’t say that name in front of my daughter,” Lapis hissed. She stood, pressing one hand over Mala’s ear, the other side of the baby’s head held to her chest so she couldn’t hear the name. Malachite squirmed, sensing her discomfort.

     “Ma _ma,_ ” the baby said, her voice quavering slightly. She felt herself sway on her feet. Peridot blinked, bemused. Her mouth was open in a quizzical shape, a little O.

     “Sorry,” she said. “I, ah, didn’t think it was – “

“I don’t want to talk about this,” Lapis said a bit too loudly, backing away. She could hear every heartbeat pound in the back of her head with the dull _thud thud thud_ of a sledgehammer.

     “Okay,” Peridot said cautiously, and Lapis hated the way she said it, like she was coaxing a wild animal, hated the way she was half-rising from the couch with deliberate slowness. She shook her head.

     “We don’t have to –“ Peridot started, but Lapis felt the old familiar fear in her now, it was poison that she could almost feel spreading under her skin, rising to engulf her like high tide in an ocean of acid as Peridot stood up, and all she could see was the other girl’s hand, reaching towards her -

     “Be quiet!” she ordered, her voice shaking, and it was fight or flight now, there was nothing else left, it always ended like this except this time she had to protect Mala and not just herself –

     “Lapis – wha – _wait!”_ Peridot’s voice behind her was more than bewildered; it was downright scared as she spun around and fled, skidding into her room, slamming the door and locking it with trembling fingers.

     She sank to the edge of the bed as shivers wracked her body, holding Mala to her chest like a ragdoll. She pulled her feet up as if afraid there was some monster lurking under, in the dark and the dust.

     Malachite tried to wriggle free.

“Mama!” she said, her eyes growing large and starry with tears. “Hooki ia ‘olu’olu, maka’u.”

   Lapis inhaled sharply, eyes burning.

_Stop it, can’t you see you’re scaring her? Oh oh akua, stop, just stop –_

     Lapis loosened her hold to hug her daughter gently, trying not to let her hands tremble, kissing the top of her head several times. The baby felt warm, reassuringly real and solid. She had a moment to be thankful that she didn’t cry about these things anymore.

     “Oh Mala, I’m sorry,” she said, voice soft and soothing, “Ka mea, aloha ke kahi, mai hopohopo, a pau ka moana. Mama aloha oe pela ka nui o.”

     They stayed like that, rocking tremblingly on the bedcovers, for a long time. Slowly, the sunlight faded behind the buildings, throwing the city into dusk-blue pocks of shadow.

     Malachite’s breath eventually settled into the steady rhythm of sleep. Lapis jellyfished in and out, swallowed up by the dark deep-sea place in the back of her mind.

 

                                                                 *   *   *   *   *

 

Peridot was worried.

     She paced her room, stuck in a wild seesaw of cursing herself for mentioning it and not having any idea how she would have known.

     _Because stars forbid Lapis actually_ tell _me something,_ she thought bitterly.

She had known it was bad, but now she felt that she couldn’t even fathom what had happened between them – how could it have been bad enough that only Jasper’s _name_ would get a reaction like she had walked in and brandished a loaded gun in Lapis’s face?

     She had no idea. But she found she had a fire burning in her, a rage low in her gut; it was easy to hate Jasper now that she had a reason for it. The fear in every contour of Lapis’s body, her dark eyes blown wide with terror like a broken-legged horse. Skittish, but furious, poised to strike; a tigress protecting her cub, an unborn roar in every line of her face.

     Terrifying and pitiful in equal measure. A complex equilibrium.

Venturing into the darkness of the hall as quietly as she could, wincing as the floor outside Lapis’s bedroom creaked, Peridot didn’t bother to turn on the light until she reached the kitchen. She dragged a chair from the table to the counter and climbed on slowly, conscious of the wobble in the flimsy plastic legs.

     Up in the high cabinets, she found the box of herbal tea that she’d seen Lapis sample from occasionally when she ran out of coffee. Filled the kettle at the sink and put the water on to boil, the drops of water on the bottom of the teakettle hissing as they were exposed to the heat of the stove.

     Peridot didn’t know anything about tea. She selected one that said _calming,_ a golden tag with a rose on it; she read _chamomile._ She poured a little honey into the chipped mug that had been drying upside-down next to the sink.

     The kettle started to wheeze, and Peridot quickly fumbled the stovetop off before it could begin to shriek. She poured the boiling water into the cup on top of the teabag, stirring in the honey with a spoon. It smelled sweet, like flowers drying in the sun.

     She watched the steam curl upwards out of the cup in gossamer spirals as she tapped lightly on Lapis’s bedroom door.

     After a few seconds of silence, Lapis opened it. She looked exhausted and strange, her eyes slowly focusing from some far-away place.

     Peridot swallowed thickly.

“I, ah… sorry about before,” she whispered, noting Malachite soundly asleep, still clutched to Lapis’s chest with her head tucked under her mother’s chin. The room was entirely dark apart from the yellow streetlamp light that filtered feebly through the light curtains at the window.

     She offered Lapis the mug. Her eyes flicked down. She crossed the room, gently laying the baby down in a crib that stood in the corner and half-covering her with a light blanket.

     She returned to the doorway, looked at the mug for a second, and took it with a nod of thanks.

     To Peridot’s surprise, Lapis didn’t retract back into the room or shut the door in her face. She gestured aimlessly towards the living room.

     Neither of them turned on the light as they stepped into the room. The moon came through the window, its silvery light on the floor casting distorted, spidery shadows, making the familiarity of the apartment into something different. A world of blacks and whites and grays.

     Peridot sat on the couch a few feet from Lapis, giving her space. Lapis tucked her legs under and nestled tightly into the corner, where the cushions intersected with the arm, as if she didn’t want her back to be exposed.

   She didn’t drink from the mug, just curled her hands around it like she was trying to absorb the warmth. After a second, she spoke.

     “I’m really sorry about…” she trailed off, her voice hoarse and subdued. “I probably really freaked you out, huh.”

     Peridot shook her head.

“Eh,” she said, trying to make her voice light. “I’ve seen worse.” Worried this was too dismissive, she added, “You wouldn’t believe some of the weirdos you meet in a foster home.”

     Lapis glanced up, startled, and then huffed out a tiny laugh. Her smile was brittle, like her face had forgotten how to make one.

     They lapsed into silence. Peridot didn’t have any clue what to say. Lapis took a tiny sip of her tea, swallowing long after it was down. Peridot was hypnotized momentarily by the long expanse of her throat. She forced herself to look away. _Is now really the time?_

Lapis’s eyes flicked up to hers, then back down. She interlaced her fingers around the mug.

     “I –“ she started to say something, then shook her head mutely. Peridot watched her worriedly.

     She opened her mouth, closed it, brought her hand to her head. Suddenly found the words and tried again, speeding through the sentence with as much control as a runaway train.

     “Do you - is there ever something that hurts so much to talk about that even just thinking about it is like - ripping out your hair?”

     Peridot blinked. Quick, indistinguishable impressions flashed through her head - operating tables, steel and metal, and endless linoleum-green hallways, fluorescent lighting. Emotionless and sterile. The doctors who invariably stopped trying to calm her after a while and just sedated her while she cried herself out. Waiting, as if there were anyone who wanted her.

     _Defective._

A strange little laugh escaped her.

     “Yes,” she said simply, and that was enough.

Lapis sighed, took another sip out of her mug. Her gaze shifted down to her lap, her fingers twisting, twisting, holding each other.

     “I really am sorry. About – before. Treating you like that.” Peridot was relieved to hear her voice was more normal, though still low with regret.

     “It’s okay,” Peridot said, fighting a bizarre urge to cry. “In point of fact, I was more worried about you.”

     Lapis looked down, one hand reaching up to touch the back of her own neck in a gesture of - embarrassment, maybe? A tiny, pained smile curved her mouth.

     “I still don’t want to talk about this,” she said. There was a gentleness about the way she said it, but she was insistent.

     Peridot nodded quickly.

“Of course,” she said, “you don’t have to tell me anything you don’t want to.”

     Lapis looked up at that, face half-lit by the stark moonlight. She was beautiful, ethereal, the moon outlining her high cheekbones, the delicate curvature of her nose. Her expression was sad, nearly hopeful, and Peridot hated the fear still in her eyes, large and shining.

     Her breath caught. It was a little easier in the dark.

Slowly, she inched her hand into the space between them on the couch cushions, turning to face Lapis, folding one leg under her.

     “Lapis,” she started, barely a breath out, light, so light, the name a soap bubble exhaled from between her lips and she had no idea what to say apart from that, and was it her imagination or was Lapis leaning in, just slightly –

     “You’re sweet, Peridot,” she whispered, and _oh my stars_ every nerve on her body was on fire as a shiver prickled up from the base of her spine to the very top of her head, she didn’t remember how to breathe but that was fine, the air was burning anyway, burning with the round white moon and everything was strange with the only noises made from her heart pounding and both of them breathing into the stillness –

     The spell broke as a car turned onto the street, its headlights splashing the wall with an entirely different kind of light. Lapis blinked and leaned back.

     Peridot cleared her throat. She was grateful for the return of the semi-darkness as the car trundled down the road, hiding the fact that she was flushed and bewildered.

     “Thanks for the tea,” Lapis said, and her voice was normal again, slightly flat, but now Peridot knew where to look for the feeling, knew it was there beneath the layers of uncaring.

     She nodded once.

“Yeah.” Her voice was soft and odd, not her own.

   Lapis got up and went back to her room, the mug of tea still clutched in both hands. Peridot was sure it was only lukewarm by now.

 

                                                                     *   *   *   *   *

 

Lapis felt better the next morning.

     She woke up to an overcast day, the sun shifting occasionally to break through the thick blanket of clouds. The daylight was bright enough for her to see every corner of her room, determine that there was nothing hiding in the closet, in the walls, under the bed, behind the door. The banishment of darkness was in the cup of cold, honeyed tea sitting on her bedside table, the color of pale straw and sunshine.

     Mala was awake in her crib, standing upright and running her little hands along the edges of the railing.

     “Mama!” she said when she noticed Lapis stirring.

“Aloha kakahiaka, Mala,” she said, stretching the kinks out of her spine as she walked across the room. She had fallen asleep in her clothes; they were rumpled and smelled bad, like sweat and fear. She transferred Mala from the crib to the floor and stripped quickly, choosing shorts and a shirt from the basket that sat by the door.

     Mala reached up towards her.

“Hunry, mama,” she said. “’Ai ai aina kakahiaka manawa?”

     “Yes, you can have breakfast, Ono,” Lapis said, picking the baby up and dropping a kiss on her sleepy head.

     Lapis settled her in her high chair, giving her a small dish of applesauce and putting water on to boil for oatmeal. Mala started to pick up the sloppy food, happily ignoring the tiny spoon Lapis set out for her benefit.

     “I’m going to brush my teeth, I’ll be right back, okay?”

“O’ay, mama,” Mala said, dropping a handful of mush on her lap.

     Peridot’s door was closed and no sound issued from inside. Lapis stood in the bathroom, brushing her teeth quickly and listening through the open door for any sounds Mala made. She spat, rinsed her toothbrush, and then hesitantly took some time to wash her face. She would have to call another babysitter as soon as possible if she wanted to get someone before tonight - but money was still an ever-present problem.

     Peridot came into the kitchen a few minutes later, her curly hair standing wild all around her head.

     “Morning,” she said hesitantly, blinking behind her glasses.

“Aloha kakahiaka,” Lapis said. At the other girl’s blank, tired stare, she translated. “Good morning.”

     Peridot coughed, looked down. _What’s wrong with her?_

Lapis dumped oats into the boiling water as Peridot rummaged in the cabinet for her box of cereal.

     “What did those poor oats do to offend you?” Peridot asked, her voice dry. Lapis looked down, surprised to see how tightly she was gripping the handle of the pot as she beat the oats with a vengeance.

     She cleared her throat lightly, embarrassed, and slowed her stirring.

“Oh. I, ah, guess I’m just stressed,” she said, watching Peridot’s face flush.

     “About…last night?” the younger girl asked, quiet in her awkwardness.

Lapis cursed herself briefly.

     “No! No, that’s… all over. I was more thinking about having to call another babysitter for Mala today.”

     Peridot looked up, apparently relieved as she slid into a chair.

“Oh! Well, ah…when do you have to work today? Because I don’t have class after four…”

     Lapis flicked the stove off and scooped some of the oatmeal into a bowl.

“Peridot, that’s sweet, but I… you really don’t have to keep watching Mala for me every time I need to go to work.” _I know you’re trying to be helpful, but unpaid babysitting for a six-hour shift isn’t exactly your share of the housework._

     Peridot shook her head, seeming to guess her train of thought.

“No, it’s actually quite enjoyable. Much more, ah, lively than just sitting around writing papers.” Peridot took a bite of dry cereal, crunching loudly before she continued. “And honestly, if I do have to work, I focus with much higher efficiency if there’s not some babysitter doing stars-knows-what in the apartment.”

     Lapis found herself smiling a little. She found it hard to argue with that particular logic.

     She sat at the table in the chair between Peridot and Mala, offering the baby a bite of oatmeal.

     Peridot leaned across the table until Mala reached towards her, giggling.

“What’s your opinion on this? I think we’d make the most objectively logical team,” Peridot said. Mala babbled happily, scooping up a handful of applesauce and offering it to Peridot.

     Lapis sighed and gave in.

“Fine. If you really want to, she’s all yours.”

     Peridot grinned.

“My shift is five to eleven,” she said, surprised at the happiness rising like a bubble in her stomach.

 

                                                                 *   *   *   *   *

 

Peridot got off the bus on the corner of Sunset Boulevard, walking in the shadow of the buildings the four-o’clock sun was sinking behind.

     Her phone started to buzz in her pocket as she turned onto her street, reverberating like an angry hornet. She fished it out, frowning, and looked. The screen said _Jasper Bruneau._

_What …?_

Her throat dry, she took the call.

     “Hello?”

There was crackling on the other end. A deep voice. “Peridot.”

     “Yes, congratulations, you know my name. What do you want?” Her voice was acutely aggressive, but Peridot found she didn’t care.

     There was a pause.

“I wanted to continue the conversation we were having on campus.”

     Peridot stopped walking, her face settling into a frown.

“Well this may come as news to you, but I _don’t_. Bye.”

     She moved to hang up. A loud growl came from the phone.

“Wait! I… ugh. I also wanted to apologize.”

     Cautiously, Peridot put the phone back to her ear. “Fine. Go,” she said.

Jasper took a breath.

     “Look, I know I’ve let my temper get away from me too many times for it to be cool. And I’ve been going to therapy, which is helping. But I also know I said some pretty fucked-up things to you yesterday. So. Sorry for that.”

     Peridot remained silent for a moment, scowling, before giving in with a sigh.

“Okay, whatever, fine. While we’re on the phone, are there any other wise perceptions you have to share about my alleged relationship?”

     Jasper sounded relieved as she started talking quickly.

“Yeah. Peridot, I honestly think of you as a friend, and I hope you can consider me the same way. I figured I could give you a fair warning. Like, before you get any deeper into this shit.” She paused, and the conviction of what she said next sent a chill down Peridot’s spine.

     “Peridot, Lapis isn’t normal.”

“I… what do you mean?” she said after a pause. Her voice was weak, quivering like an uncooked egg.

     “I mean she’s literally insane. Like, mentally ill. PTSD, depression, anxiety, all of that. Trust me. When we dated, it was great at first. That’s how she does it, she lures you in with the happy-crappy little girlfriend routine. Then, you make one mistake, and –“ Jasper paused to take a heavy breath, then let a long sigh out. “ - it all just goes to hell.”

     Peridot was quiet for a speechless moment. She bit her lip, looking up at the window of their apartment down the block, the blue flowers that Lapis grew in the windowbox. _Even just thinking about it is like ripping out your hair._ Her voice shook with anger.

     “Yeah, okay, thanks for that insight. Enlighten me further, Jasper – did you ever once stop to think about how _you_ might have exacerbated that situation?”

     Jasper reacted explosively, shouting into the phone. Peridot winced.

“No, you don’t get it! See, she’s already got you under her little spell! I was _good_ for her, for us – she doesn’t get it, that breaking up with me was a mistake. We weren’t perfect, we had our fights, but I’m the only one who can handle her kind of – intensity.” She paused again, slowing her frantic words. “Listen, Peridot, I’m sorry. But you need to acknowledge that Lapis _needs_ me. Not you.”

     Peridot gaped incredulously. She sputtered for a second before she found her voice.

     “Stars, are you even _hearing_ yourself right now?” She swallowed her anger and tried to speak calmly, but it was hard when she felt like her head would blow into pieces. Her nails dug into the clenched fist of her other hand. “Jasper, there’s a reason Lapis doesn’t talk to you anymore. She doesn’t want to be around you because she knew that relationship was bad for both of you.”

     Jasper started to interrupt, but Peridot finished quickly.

“No, listen. I’ll admit I probably don’t know Lapis as well as you do, and I, ah, appreciate your advice. But we’re adults and we don’t need your input on our personal lives.” She felt her cheeks redden, knew her ears were scarlet. “Don’t call again.”

   She hung up.

 

                                                                   *   *   *   *   *

 

Lapis brought the coffee to the table, a spoon balanced on the tray along with various pitchers of milk, creamers, and sugar. She nodded distractedly as the man thanked her, head whirring with back-and-forth thoughts.

     Peridot had returned to the apartment looking… off. Her face had been thoughtful, tense. She had barely talked when Lapis had explained everything Mala would need, and although her demeanor had softened when she took the baby, Lapis could tell that something was still bothering her.

     That something was, more likely than not, the Jasper issue.

She didn’t know if she could tell Peridot anything without breaking down. She never talked about it, had locked it away in her own Pandora’s box in the back of her head, and wouldn’t open it for anything. She knew it probably wasn’t healthy, but it worked.

     There were plenty of things she had in that box, and she regarded them as past parts of her life. Strictly in the past, not allowed to tamper with her tenuous present.

     Even if she could tell Peridot, did she want to? Jasper had been worse, of course, a thousand times worse, but Lapis wasn’t ready to admit the things that _she_ herself had done. Peridot would never trust her again if she knew. No. She wouldn’t ruin this. Peridot couldn’t know any of it.

     Then again – when Peridot had unintentionally cracked Pandora’s box open, she’d gotten a glimpse of how Lapis reacted. She hadn’t run away, she hadn’t wanted to hurt Lapis. She had come to her door quietly, in that sweet, awkward little way she had, bringing a strange brand of comfort with her tea.

     And anyway, how long did Lapis expect Peridot to be content with not knowing? She already seemed bothered by it. Lapis figured she owed the younger girl that much after the way she’d treated her; to tell at least _some_ of it to ease her mind. Even if it invariably drove her away.

     Lapis swallowed. _No. I don’t have to tell her_ that _much._

Frustratingly circular, this train of thought followed her all through the end of her shift, looping around her head as she sagged tiredly in her seat on the bus. By the time she got off at Sunset Boulevard and was unlocking the door to the apartment, she was resolved to tell Peridot _something_ – she just wasn’t sure what.

     The apartment was dark and quiet, a crack of light shining from under Peridot’s door. Lapis peeked in on Mala through her open bedroom door, a portion of her anxiety lifting as she saw her peacefully asleep in her crib. The room was a bit hot. She turned on the fan in the window.

     _No point putting it off any longer,_ she thought, steeling herself.

She hoped Peridot would be asleep. She stepped out into the hall, and opened Peridot’s door before she lost her courage.

     She blinked for a second, her brain stuttering at what she saw.

Peridot was sitting upright on her bed in pajama shorts, her laptop balanced precariously on her leg. One leg. Her other leg was –

     The younger girl looked up, nonplussed. Her cheeks were flushing, and she cleared her throat.

     Lapis didn’t know where to look. _The bad knee._ Peridot’s legs were unsurprisingly skinny in the absence of her baggy jeans. The stump was small, amputated a couple inches below the knee, the freckles showing darkly on the paler skin. Spanned with long scars, the skin neatly tucked and long healed over.

     “Practically speaking, I suppose it’s futile to ask you to knock now,” Peridot said, voice strained.

     Lapis snapped out of it.

“Oh oh akua, I – I’m sorry,” she stuttered, not knowing of she was apologizing for walking in or for something else entirely. “I’ll, ah –“

     Peridot snapped her laptop shut.

“Wait,” she said, face tense. “Why’d you come in? Do you need something?”

     Lapis flushed. Now hardly seemed the time to talk about her problems.

“N – not exactly,” she said, flustered, “I wanted to talk to you about something –“

     “Then talk,” Peridot said simply. She gestured towards the desk chair that was sitting in the middle of the room, piled with laundry.

     Lapis hesitated before walked in slowly, skirting around the scattered clothes, open books, and random small objects that obscured most of the floor. Hesitantly, she sank to the edge of the bed, next to Peridot.

     They sat in an expectant silence for a moment. Lapis worked herself up to say something, but the urge to talk about Jasper was gone. Instead what popped out was, “Why didn’t you tell me?”

     Peridot looked over, eyes hard.

“Why didn’t I tell you? Because I have no desire or need for misguided pity,” she said.

     Lapis blinked, surprised.

“I’ve concluded that the inevitable reaction is one of three things,” she continued stiffly. “Someone sees me and they feel bad for me because my life must be _so_ difficult. Or they feel _inspired_ , and therefore the need to tell me how inspiring I am because I can traverse the stairs on my own, or get into the bus without anyone to hold my hand. Or they patronize me endlessly, they hover to make sure I don’t need help with anything, because stars know the fact that my leg is partially amputated means I’m unable to _walk_.”

     Lapis stole a glance at Peridot. She was flushed, looking down at her lap. Her shoulders sagged.

     “I’m sorry,” Lapis said hesitantly. “I like to think I wouldn’t react like that. But I… probably would have if you hadn’t said anything.”

     Peridot looked up at that, one side of her mouth lifted in a little smile.

She shrugged. “At least you’re willing to acknowledge it.”

     They sat for a second, Lapis swinging her legs awkwardly. She studied the prosthetic on the floor. A rubber socket, some sort of joint at the knee, and below that a pair of thin metal rods attached to a dark green metal foot.

     Peridot cleared her throat.

“Any additional questions, since we’re talking about this?” she asked, a kind of tired amusement in her voice. _She’s probably had this conversation a hundred times._

     “Only one, really. What happened?” Lapis asked.

Peridot nodded as if she had expected this. “Birth defect. One leg was deformed below the knee, couldn’t walk until I was four, eventually got peripheral arterial disease, had to have it amputated to save me from blood poisoning.” She shrugged. “I’ve had prosthetics since I was six.”

     Lapis blinked. She said it so coolly, a simple recitation of facts, as if her life hadn’t once been splayed on an operating table.

     They were silent for a moment as Lapis absorbed this.

“So. We drifted slightly off topic…what was it that, ah, motivated you to talk to me in the first place?” Peridot asked with customary awkwardness.

     Lapis couldn’t make herself say it. They sat in silence for almost a minute. She shook her head uncomfortably, feeling a burn of embarrassment in her cheeks.

     Finally, she pushed the words out through her constricted throat.

“I – I figured I owed you.” _Especially after this._

     Peridot waited, thankfully quiet, as Lapis struggled.

“I wanted to tell you what happened with Jasper. If you want to know,” she blurted finally.

     Peridot looked up attentively, eyes guarded and face tense.

“I… well, simply put, yes. But not if you’re not ready to talk about it,” Peridot added quickly, looking worried.

     Lapis kept her eyes on her lap and started before she lost the little momentum she’d gathered.

     “We met in a bar.” Too blunt. She allowed herself a little smile. “Romantic, right? Anyway.” She paused. “I was a stupid kid. I’d never even been in a relationship before. We started flirting, then actually talking, and – well – I thought she understood me.” Lapis swallowed. “Really understood me. She’d been in the military for two years already by then; I didn’t know where at that time. We talked for hours, got really deep. She ended up telling me about all the horrible things she’d seen, people getting killed and how it all affected her, and it was finally a connection. Someone who knew what I knew, or some of it.”

     The words were coming more easily now, Lapis found, and she kept her eyes down. Looking firmly into her lap, her hands pulling at each other. Peridot had yet to say anything.

     “She made me feel… I don’t know. Special. Like we were the only two people in the world who knew what _real_ life was like. And it was all huina bipi. Total bullshit. But – she made me feel like we were made for each other. Like we needed each other. And – I did need that. I needed to feel like someone wanted me, you know?”

     She paused. Her hands were shaking a little.

“It was nice at first. I moved in with her, we would go to the beach every day after work. She never went that far with it, but she had a lot of surfing potential. Called me her water witch.” Lapis smiled a little, bitterly. “I thought she cared. Actually, I still believe she cared. That’s the fucked part, that she cared about me and everything went to shit anyway.”

     Peridot shifted next to her. She felt the familiar burning in the back of her throat, welling up into her nose, but she knew she wouldn’t cry.

     “It was just little things, at first. She’d have a bad day at work and snap at me for getting home late, or leaving the front door unlocked. I didn’t take it lying down. I got angry when she yelled, I hated it. Akua, it made my head hurt. So we’d scream at each other, because that’s how she knew how to release stress. It got to be a regular thing every day, just unloading on each other. It wasn’t that big of a step from screaming to hitting.”

     Peridot made a tiny noise in the back of her throat. Lapis barreled on, squeezing her eyes shut.

     “I – I hit her back, sometimes. She started to get really paranoid and weird. Obsessed with the idea that I was trapping her, stopping her from talking to or seeing anyone else, and that I would sneak out and leave her as soon as her back was turned. She’d go out on the streets for days with both of our keys and all the money we had, lock me in. That apartment had a deadbolt on the outside of the door. I’d climb out the window, go to the beach to swim. Dumpster-dive for food. I was getting scared, just about ready to leave her, trying to work up the nerve.” She took a deep, shuddering breath. “Then she got me pregnant a few months before her reassignment surgery.” There was a heavy pause.

     Peridot spoke for the first time, her voice shaking.

“How old were you?”

     Lapis swallowed. Her voice came out scratchy, an almost-whisper.

“Eighteen.”

     A loud breath from next to her. Lapis glanced sideways through her hair. Peridot was angry – no, furious. Her ears were red, chin trembling, her hands clenched into unsteady fists on her lap.

     Lapis nervously cleared the whisper from her throat.

“She swore she didn’t do it on purpose. But she knew that I wouldn’t be able to take care of a baby on my own, that I couldn’t leave her. She _knew._ I had my little job at the coffee shop, but she was the one who was really making money. She was the one who wanted the baby, said she wanted us to be a family. And she apologized to me, saying that she knew we had to fix our relationship. She promised she wouldn’t hit me anymore, because she couldn’t let herself hurt the baby. Because she loved me. She started paying for me to take classes at the college, she knew I always wanted to study marine biology. And for a while, it was better.”

     She risked a glance at Peridot. She was surprised to see the younger girl crying, large tears rolling silently down her freckled cheeks. She hesitated for a second before continuing.

     “Then the company she worked for, Diamond Enterprise, started to go downhill. They invested in bad stocks or something. The idea of losing her job – she couldn’t take it.” Lapis was mildly surprised at how toneless her voice sounded. She felt oddly detached, floating above and out of her head, a balloon on a thin string. “She started hitting me again, worse than anything before. Saying it was my fault, that I was making her lose focus at work, that I ate too much and we were wasting all her money on food. I would hit back, in self-defense. I knocked her out cold once. I was so scared I threw up. I couldn’t let her get near the baby. I stopped going out, because people would talk about a pregnant girl covered in bruises. People were so damn _nosy._ But I was ready to leave. I wanted an abortion, I wanted away from her, I wanted to think about myself for once.”

    She took a deep breath. Her eyes were dry and hard.

“Then, finally, I found out that she had been stationed in Hawaii. U.S. troops sent in to stop protests that were happening because of resort owners buying sacred land. My land, my _family’s_ land. Those protests were the whole reason I got stolen by this akua hoohewaia oia continent at all.”

     She stopped, not realizing she was light-headed until she breathed again.

“After that – I was done. I waited until dark, got all the clothes and food I could carry in a backpack. Got out through the window. Thought I would hitchhike out, get to another city on the coast, get out of this place that was making me sick and depressed.” Lapis’s voice broke for the first time. “Then she found me first.”

     For a minute, Lapis just breathed. She felt Peridot shaking next to her and glanced up. The younger girl raised he hand, as if to put it on Lapis’s arm, but then hesitated and let it fall.

     _I want to -_ Lapis thought suddenly. She untangled her hands in her own lap and reached into the space between them. Her hand came to rest on the blanket. She heard Peridot inhale sharply as their pinkies brushed.

     A shiver flew up her arm as Peridot slowly placed a hand over hers. She felt real again as Peridot’s thumb brushed tremblingly soft back and forth over her skin. Reminding her that she shouldn’t give up and float away.

     She looked back down into her lap, cheeks flushed, trying not to let her voice betray her pounding heart.

     “She came after me while we were still on our street. Heard me leaving, I guess. She chased me to the beach. I – thought I’d be safe if I could just get to the water. I knew I could swim faster than either of us could run. But the water was so rough. I knew how to avoid riptides, but I was too heavy. Wasn’t quick enough with all my clothes on, and wasn’t used to swimming with the baby. So I got pulled out. She was running along the beach after me, not going in the water, screaming that she would kill me if I came to shore, why the fuck would I leave, how could I do this to her, to us. That was the first time I’ve ever been scared in the ocean. I swam for three hours before someone heard her screaming and called the police.” Lapis swallowed. Peridot’s hand tightened around hers.

     “I thought I would die,” she said calmly. “I was just _so_ tired. I could barely even breathe. By the time they had her in the back of the car, I had – I crawled out onto the sand and just blacked out. The police took me to the hospital, said that I could file a restraining order. They’d heard enough of her to – to know.” Lapis found it in her to smile slightly. “That’s when Steven helped me. It was Garnet’s shift on the police force that night. They let me stay in the hospital for three days, and Steven came to visit me. I was pretty out of it, but he said I – I could go live with them for a while. To get back on my feet, to get away from her. They helped me find this apartment, and I haven’t seen Jasper since.” She took a long exhale, breath shuddering. “She called me once. I told her it was over, but – but that I was keeping the baby.”

     At that Peridot sat straight, looking over in surprise, eyes shiny as round coins. “Why did you?” she asked.

     “Because taking care of my daughter was the only reason I had to live,” she said shortly.

     She felt Peridot flinch. Lapis started to loosen her grip on the other girl’s hand, but Peridot interlaced their fingers gently.

     “Anyway, once I got used to it… it was nice. To feel like I made something new and beautiful. And… having her kick when I thought I was alone.”

     A few minutes went by. Lapis was trembling, her whole body quaking, a bird caught in a windstorm.

     “I – ah, don’t know – I – I’m sorry,” Peridot finally stuttered, her voice small and hoarse.

     Lapis kept still. Just breathing. She felt oddly… okay. Pandora’s box had been rendered transparent, letting Peridot see some of the myriad of monsters contained inside, without letting a single one out to consume her.

     “Thank you for telling me,” Peridot said. Lapis’s heart skipped a merry hop as their fingers tightened, their hands bolder than they dared to be.

     She nodded.

“I… haven’t told anyone that,” she said quietly. There was a strange lightness now, as if she had thrown away a backpack full of stones.

     Peridot jerked her head in a halting acknowledgement. “I’m glad you told me, then,” she said simply. It was so gentle, the way she said it.

     Lapis was exhausted. For the first time in months she felt like she could sleep for dreams, and not to escape the droning of her own brain.

     She ran her thumb gingerly down the underside of Peridot’s palm, feeling light calluses and slightly papery skin, warm and alive.

     “I need to go to bed,” she said softly. It was so quiet, peaceful with the hum of the other room’s fan and the sounds of their matched-pace breaths.

     Peridot looked over. Lapis avoided her eyes and looked down at their hands, tried to count the freckles on Peridot’s fingers.

     “Lapis,” she said, her voice quiet but insistent.

She looked up and met Peridot’s eyes. They were green green green, a new leaf shining up through dew, a cat’s eyes. So concerned, though, an entire ocean of caring so obvious that Lapis felt the space behind her ribs open like a flower.

   “Are you really okay?” Peridot asked, and god she had never inhaled with such happiness, each molecule she breathed filled her lungs with gold. She smiled.

     “As okay as I’ll ever be,” she said, and Peridot smiled back, watery and unsure. They hadn’t looked away from each other, Peridot’s eyes were still like grass in spring, wider with pupils like ink, _shining,_ bright as a field of summer flowers. _How does she do that?_ And she was leaning in, afraid of how exhilarated she was, or that the feelings filling her chest would spill out of her, a shining waterfall, a wellspring of iridescence before she could reach Peridot’s lips –

     She snapped her head back, breathing in sharply as she stood up. Peridot blinked as their hands were disconnected.

     “Goodnight, Peridot,” Lapis said as gently as she could, heart hammering.

She backed away from the bed, just catching Peridot’s shell-shocked expression as she closed the door behind her. Once safe in her own room, Lapis threw her arms out and spun, orbiting the center of the floor. She wanted to laugh, but just hugged her arms to her own chest, smiling like a fool. She fell into bed. Something in her was overflowing, and it seemed bright enough to fill the whole room.

     She closed her eyes, meaning to berate herself for feeling this way again – wasn’t this how her last relationship had started?

     But no. It wasn’t. This was different, this was soft and good and didn’t have anything to do with her past. The comfort of a favorite sweater, the colors of a sunrise. The smell of freshly mown grass.

     Lapis sank into sleep without noticing. Her dreams were soft and fleeting as hummingbirds, leaving her only with impressions of new leaves budding in the spring.

 

                                                                  *   *   *   *   *

 

Peridot woke up the next morning, bewildered, wondering if last night had all been a fever dream. Her cheeks were damp with tears while her brain still hummed with disconnecting dreams, images of a tall figure, a heaving ocean of blue and black, and Lapis running through a mist of bright fire. Lips on hers, pink and silky as the inside of a conch shell –

     She sat up, shaking her head out violently. Her hand still felt the burning imprint of Lapis’s fingers against her palm.

     She tried to persuade the flush to leave her cheeks. There was no time to dwell on this anymore – she had class this afternoon. _Great. Professor Sexist McAsshole too._ Biology was one of her favorite subjects but it was taught by the worst member of the whole faculty, and Peridot would need her whole focus to gain anything from the class.

     She stretched, trying to take deep breaths, and got dressed quickly. Hoping against logic that Lapis wouldn’t be in the kitchen already, though she could hear her talking to Malachite.

     She went out to get breakfast.

“Morning,” Lapis said, looking up from the table with a slight smile. Peridot’s heart started to pound. _Stars, knock it off._

     “Morning,” she said with difficulty, starting to get cereal out of the cabinet. The baby laughed and threw a spoon on the floor. Lapis sighed and bent down to pick it up.

     “What are your plans for the day?” Lapis asked casually. Peridot nearly dropped her box of cereal.

     “Well, I have the worst biology class ever recorded in human history,” she said hopefully, “But other than that…”

     Lapis snorted. “Wow, someone doesn’t like her science,” she said sounding surprised.

     Peridot shook her head. “No, I love biology, the professor’s just – just a –“ She glanced over at the baby, who was listening raptly. “ - an enormous clumpy _clod_ ,” and slammed her cereal box on the counter.

     Lapis laughed. “Well, if you’re not doing anything after your terribly presented bio class, do you want to –“

     She stopped midsentence as her phone started to buzz on the table, sighing in irritation as she picked it up and answered it.

     Peridot looked resentfully down into her bowl, cursing the abysmal timing of technology.

     “Hello. Oh, hi Lacey, what is it?” She looked attentive at first, mouthing _boss_ for Peridot’s benefit across the room. “Mmhmm. Yeah. Oh, wow, that’s unfortunate –“ She rolled her eyes, slumping dramatically into a chair, flapping her hand open and closed as the vague, squeaky sounds of a person talking continued through the phone. Peridot stifled a laugh at Lapis’s expression and leaned against the counter.

     Lapis hesitated for a second. “Yeah. Yeah, sure, I can take a shift this afternoon,” she said. “Yeah. See you at twelve. Of course, it’s no problem. Bye.” She hung up, dropping her phone on the table, and turned to Peridot. “The problem with being dependable so they give you more work to do is that you have to do more work,” she said in monotone, taking a bite of toast. Peridot snorted and sat down in the other chair.

     “Can you watch Mala while I’m out?” she asked. “The shift I just cleverly volunteered for is twelve to six.”

     Peridot swallowed a bite of cereal.

“I can and will, but my class starts at twelve thirty.”

     Lapis sighed.

“Should I call a sitter while you have class, and you can watch her before and after that?”

     Malachite threw her spoon again, with finality. They both looked over, wincing at the clatter.

“A’ole!” she cried, sounding frustrated. “Alalai ia ‘ane’i, mama!”

     Lapis leaned over the table, lifting Mala out of her high chair and cuddling her on her lap, ignoring the Cheerios that scattered from Mala’s hand and bounced across the floor.

     “Oh ono, I’m sorry. I would love to stay. But I need to go to work so that both of us can eat.”

     Malachite frowned, then reached out supplicatingly to Peridot.

“Makemake e alalai ia ana me Peri-da,” she declared. Lapis blinked.

     “She says she wants to stay with you,” Lapis said in mild surprise, handing her the squirming baby.

Malachite settled in Peridot’s lap, smiling up at her as she pulled on the front of her shirt.

     “I can take her to class,” Peridot said, putting her arms around the baby.

Lapis blinked, appearing to think this over.

     “Are you sure?” she asked eventually, “It gets pretty tiring carrying a baby around all day.”

     Peridot nodded. “It’s only an hour-long lecture. As long as you think she’s not going to be overwhelmed or anything, it’s doable.”

     Lapis shrugged.

“She likes being in public as long as she’s with someone she trusts. She’ll probably be quiet though, she gets pretty shy.”

     Peridot let Mala grab her finger in one tiny fist.

“Are you ready to begin your higher education?” She smiled as Mala blinked and asked, “School?”

     “Smart girl,” Lapis sang, stuffing the rest of her toast in her mouth and ruffling Mala’s hair gently. The baby giggled and patted Peridot’s arm.

     They walked down to the bus stop a few hours later, Peridot uncomfortably adjusting the sling that Mala was tucked into. The baby was hot against her chest and kept squirming around, trying to get a better view of the street, and she had her laptop in her backpack. She cursed herself for not cleaning out the thing when she had the chance – there seemed to also be an excess twenty pounds of miscellaneous paper.

     “Bus now?” Mala chirped as they came to a stop underneath the bus shelter.

“Soon,” she huffed, sinking onto the metal bench.

     Mala was entranced when they finally got on the bus, laughing whenever the lumbering vehicle started or stopped with a slow jerk, peeking wide-eyed out of the sling at the other people.

     They got off fifteen minutes later, at BCU. Peridot had never noticed how long the walk from the gates to her lecture hall was. A shudder suddenly rippled up her spine.

     _Oh my_ stars, _what if Jasper’s here?_

She hurried on as quickly as she could, ignoring the stares of other students who passed by doing double takes at Mala’s puff of wispy curls waving in the wind like some kind of sea anemone. The baby had become subdued among the crowds of people, still curious but now willing to stay quiet and wide-eyed close to Peridot’s chest.

     A girl with sleek hair and a pair of oversized round glasses stopped her with a smile and a gentle touch on her elbow. Peridot craned her neck to look up at her, cursing her height.

     “Hey! I just wanted to let you know your baby is seriously adorable,” she said, a hand lingering on Peridot’s arm a little longer than necessary.

   Peridot cleared her throat, flushing.

“Um. Thanks. She’s not mine though, I’m watching her for my roommate.”

     Mala tucked her face into Peridot’s front as the girl bent down.

“What’s her name?” she asked, twisting a long strand of honey-brown hair around her finger.

     “Malachite,” Peridot said after a moment of hesitation. _Why is she talking to me?_

The girl’s eyes widened.

     “Ooh, that’s so _exotic_ ,” she said. “Mine’s Ana. Not quite as interesting. What about you?”

     “Peridot,” she answered immediately, wishing this Ana would just leave so she wouldn’t be late to class. Mala didn’t seem very happy, was grasping at the front of her shirt as she hid her face.

     But meanwhile, Ana was still going strong.

“Oh! I _knew_ you looked familiar. I remember that name. You’re in my sociology class, aren’t you?”

     Peridot shrugged.

“Pink, right?” Ana pressed on, using the pet name that most people had for their sociology professor, Petunia Diamond.

     “Yeah,” she said, trying not to let her impatience show in her voice. “I think we are in the same class.” She paused awkwardly for a second, trying to find a polite way to get rid of this person. “I, ah, regret prematurely truncating this lovely meeting, but I really have a biology lecture to attend.”

   Ana looked surprised for a second before her face broke into a neat, half-moon smile.

     “You’re kind of weird,” she observed, laughter in her voice. “But in a cute way.”

Peridot blinked. _What?_

Ana waved hesitantly, walking backwards into the crowd. “Go, before you’re late for bio. I’ll see you around, right?” she asked.

     “Umm, sure,” Peridot replied uncertainly. “See you in sociology.”

Ana grinned and waved with more vigor, jogging away into the stream of people flowing along the path.

    “Cute,” she muttered disbelievingly as she turned away.

The lecture hall was full, and Peridot was the last to walk in. She glared at the group of boys, her rivals, who always gained the professor’s attention and approval over any of the girls. One of them smirked down at her, then his eyes widened. Heads bent together, whispering, as people saw Malachite.

     The professor, a stooped man almost as small as Peridot herself, a pair of wire glasses perched on his fussily styled white hair, frowned in disapproval as she walked in late. Then he noticed Mala, staring out at the room, her dark eyes wide and shining.

     “Miss Olivine,” he trumpeted, voice cold, “what on Earth is _that?_ ”

Every head in the room turned, the quiet buzz of conversation ceasing. Peridot’s face flushed in anger. The words tumbled out of their own accord.

     “I don’t know, Professor, you’ve made it abundantly clear that _you’re_ the biology expert in this room. Why don’t you enlighten me?”

   A ripple of shocked laughter spread among the students before it was quickly quelled by the professor’s icy glare.

     “There are no _infants_ permitted in a college-level lecture, Miss Olivine,” he said hissed. Mala’s mouth turned down in what Peridot recognized as a precursor of tears. She quickly kissed the top of her head. The baby’s hand curled around hers.

     “Well, Professor,” she said quietly, “as I recall, outdated sexist beliefs, unreasonably biased reactions to students’ presentations, and blatant favoritism are unpermitted as well, but you don’t seem to find those objectionable.”

     He blinked, taken aback. His already pink complexion darkened to a tomato red. For a second, Peridot thought he would scream at her, or possibly explode.

     “Go. Sit down. In the back,” he rasped, turning away from her to lean on the edge of his desk.

     Peridot turned and limped up the steps in the aisle. Students grinned at her as she passed. She kept her eyes on the top of Mala’s head, face still flushed, and found a seat.

     The baby didn’t make a sound, cuddled against her chest in perfect behavior through the droning of the lecture, but Peridot didn’t pay attention anyway. She let Mala hold her hand the entire time.

 

                                                                   *   *   *   *   *

 

Sniffing, Lapis came in off the street, stepping out of the way as the lobby door swung shut behind her. She wrinkled her nose, reminded strongly of cheese and burned hair. _Akua, that smells terrible._

She climbed the stairs hesitantly, getting concerned - the smell grew stronger as she neared the third floor. Taking the last few stairs two at a time, she unlocked the door and shoved into the apartment.

   Her eyes watering, Lapis choked out, “Peridot? What happened?”

“Mama! Per-da make dinner!” Mala was laughing, perched in her high chair in the kitchen. Peridot was hunched over the counter, coughing and sputtering.

     There was a half-chopped onion in a pile on the counter, a pot of water hissing as it boiled over, several bowls and spoons strewn around the various surfaces, and a burnt mess in the small saucepan. Lapis swiped the tears out of her eyes and stood bewildered in the doorway.

     Peridot straightened up, glasses pushed up by one hand, the other pressed firmly to her streaming eyes. She gestured helplessly towards the onion.

     “I guess dinner didn’t go as planned?” Lapis asked, flicking off the stove and cautiously prodding the blackened mass in the saucepan with the slightly charred wooden spoon that sat in it.

     Peridot wrenched open the kitchen window, letting in a breath of blessedly fresh air, and coughed.

     “Mala requested macaroni and cheese. I….” She hunched her shoulders, ashamed or embarrassed. “An attempt was made.”

     Lapis grinned widely, then started to laugh at the expression on Peridot’s face.

“Wait. So this was - _cheese_ at some point?” she asked, interrupted by her own laughter as Peridot scowled petulantly.

     “Okay, _listen._ My sincerest apologies that we can’t all be semi-professional chefs to feed a _baby_ –“

     Lapis put a hand up, halting Peridot’s protests.

“It’s fine. Mai hopohopo i pili ana ia.” She smiled slightly. “I’ll show you how to make it.”

     Peridot blinked, then nodded. Mala said, “Ma _ma!_ ” and held her arms out.

Lapis picked her up from the high chair.

     “Do you still want your cheesy abomination if someone competent makes it for you this time?” Peridot asked the baby. Lapis snorted.

     “I’m competent? Please, I’m blushing,” she said sarcastically. Mala giggled.

“Haraconi,” she stated, grabbing a piece of onion. Lapis plucked it out of her hand and gave her a bit of cheese from the counter instead.

     “First things first,” Lapis said, “get that mess out of my pan.” She handed the smoking saucepan to Peridot, who threw her hands up, backing away slightly.

     “Why me?”

“First, when there are only two people cooking, sous chef gets dish duty. Second, I have to finish chopping this onion. Third, you’re the one who made the mess in the first place. Ho’omaka ka ho’oma’ema’e.”

     Peridot sighed and took the pan.

“I’ll assume that means _please scrape this hellacious creation from my cookware.”_ She turned to Mala. “Your mother will make a menial laborer of me yet.”

     Lapis grinned. “Loosely interpreted, that’s totally right. Here, let me show you how to make a roux.”

     She noticed, as they chopped and stirred and boiled, that there was an odd feeling she couldn’t place. It was the opposite of the constant, low-level depression that had been her default for the past year, an indescribably simple thing that settled in her chest like a nesting bird. She smiled more than she’d smiled in months as she tried to put a name to the feeling.

     Peridot’s hands brushed hers as they both reached for the pasta box. Mala laughed and babbled back and forth to both of them, alternately on the floor or on Lapis’s hip. Lapis never imagined she could be so happy with such a domestic setting, with the food filling the house with good smells, Peridot’s face shiny and flushed with steam as she lifted the lid off the boiling pot of water. They traded comments back and forth, shyly at first but soon with confidence and rhythm. The feeling stayed.

     _Contentment. That’s what this is._

She paused for a second as the thought struck her with all the rightness of a long-sought word coming back from the tip of the tongue. Peridot bumped into her from behind as she stopped suddenly on the way to the stove, colander of pasta in hand.

     “Wh – sorry,” Peridot said as a few elbows scattered on the floor and Lapis stumbled. “Are you okay?”

     Lapis smiled slowly as she looked at Peridot’s worried face. The mess they had made of the kitchen, together.

     “’Ae,” she said, “Actually, I think I’m gonna be fine.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> heeey guys i'm back !! (what are regular updates hahaha)
> 
> hope you enjoyed the chapter, this one was a real monster to write but also incredibly fun ^-^ 
> 
> translations for this chapter
> 
> \- hooki ia 'olu'olu, maka'u - please stop, scared
> 
> \- ka mea, aloha ke kahi, mai hopohopo, a pau ka moana. mama aloha oe pela ka nui o - i love you, don't worry, it's all okay. mama loves you so much
> 
> \- ’ai ai aina kakahiaka manawa? - eat now, breakfast time?
> 
> \- oh oh akua - oh my god
> 
> \- akua hoohewaia oia - god damned
> 
> \- a'ole - no
> 
> \- alalai ia ‘ane’i - stay here
> 
> \- makemake e alalai ia ana me - want to stay with
> 
> \- mai hopohopo i pili ana ia - don't worry about it
> 
> \- ho’omaka ka ho’oma’ema’e - get cleaning
> 
> \- 'ae - yes
> 
> please do me a huge favor and drop a comment <3
> 
> *chapter title: e haule ana - falling


	6. luluâ'ina

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> :')

Lapis was on the other end of the couch, reading a book. By now, Peridot knew without looking up how she was sitting; one leg folded under, her elbow resting on her knee. Mala was napping, and for now, everything was quiet.

     “Did you know that pods of orca whales actually have different dialogues and accents depending on what part of the world they’re from?” Lapis sounded animated as she broke the silence.

     “Interesting,” Peridot said, absentminded, without looking up from her computer.

Lapis snorted, a half-laugh, which made Peridot’s ears burn automatically at this point. She looked up.

     “Alright, college girl, I’ll leave you to your all-important studying,” Lapis teased. “You could at least pretend to be paying attention.”

     Peridot looked studiously back down, straightening her spine and pushing up her glasses exaggeratedly. After a moment she glanced back to Lapis.

     “Oh, sorry, did you say something?”

Lapis giggled, and Peridot joined her, something in her stomach fluttering happily at the way Lapis reached up to cover her mouth with one hand.

     Her phone started to buzz on the coffee table. Lapis, smile fading, reached for it.

“Here, I’ll –“

     Peridot lunged for it, the butterflies melting into something sour and frantic.

“No! It’s, ah – I need to –“

     She stood, phone in hand, and made her escape, heart hammering. She felt Lapis’s stare burning twin holes in her back. Once in her room, she looked down at the screen.

     _Jasper Bruneau._

She exhaled, half in anger and half tiredness. She suddenly couldn’t stand the phone’s mechanical vibrating through her palm. Dropping it on a pile of shirts, she wiped clammy sweat from her hairline with the back of her hand.

     _Why won’t she just leave us_ alone?

She knew. Jasper was jealous, hideously possessive, _still_ intent on having Lapis to herself nearly two years after all ties had been severed. The tenacity of it, and the sheer unreasonable stubbornness – those were the things that scared her. She thought of how Lapis would react if she knew Jasper were –

     Peridot swallowed thickly and reached down, unlocking her phone. The buzzing had ended, the red missed call notification glaring up like an accusation from the screen. She had six new texts, all from Jasper.

     _i know youre not picking up on purpose_

_peridot this is your last warning_

_lapis doesnt love you_

_i thought you were smarter than this_

_peridot listen to me_

_peridot pick !! up !! your fucking phone_

     She shuddered with anger, her fingers hovering over the tiny keys, half-ready to give Jasper a piece of her mind.

     _No. That’s exactly what she wants._

Instead, she pressed decisively on the little button in the corner.

     Block number?

Yes.

     “Fuck off,” she muttered. She went to delete the texts, but hesitated, finger stopping to hover over the screen.

_You should tell Lapis. You know that, right?_

Peridot shrank from this thought. If Lapis knew that Jasper was contacting her this persistently, what would she do? Peridot had her suspicions that one reason Lapis had been so hesitant to spend time with her at all was because of her association with Jasper, as faint as it was. If Lapis thought that Jasper could potentially access her and Mala through Peridot –

     She would inevitably push her away. She’d be out of the apartment, out of Lapis’s life. Gone, disconnected with the same brutal efficiency that Lapis had utilized to cut away Jasper herself.

     Her throat was tight. She couldn’t tell her.

 _You realize that this is actually_ dangerous, _right? This isn’t just a game._

Jasper wouldn’t hesitate when it came down to getting Lapis back. Part of her knew this, her gut, even as her conscious thought was struggling to push the idea away. Jasper wasn’t stupid. She was undeniably abusive, manipulative with a violent streak a mile wide, but she was clever. If she sensed the smallest opportunity at reconciling with Lapis, or rather of being in control again, she would take it.

     She could go out to the living room right now, show Lapis the texts. _Jasper keeps bothering me, and to be quite honest I’m getting scared. We should go talk to Garnet, get the restraining order renewed. Or whatever you do in this fucked-up situation._

     And how would _that_ go over? Another panic attack, probably worse and this time definitely because of Peridot, and no amount of tea would be able to bring her back.

     Anyway, Lapis needed her help to take care of the baby. They were like a family now.

     No. She wasn’t prepared to lose the long afternoons with Mala, the comforting weight of her tiny body, her bubbly laugh. The warmth of knowing that Lapis was right across the hall as they slept, or the way her nose wrinkled when she laughed, carefree and so much like her daughter. The way the sunlight came through the windows at four. Or the thousands of other little things that were irrefutably part of her life now.

     She wasn’t prepared to lose Lapis.

Her eyes burned as she pressed down hard. Delete conversation?

     Yes.

Over. Done with.

 _Selfish,_ her mind whispered darkly, but Peridot knew how to ignore unpleasant truths by now.

 

                                                                   *   *   *   *   *

 

Lapis glanced up as Peridot clunked back into the living room, shoving her phone into her pocket. Lapis couldn’t decide how she looked – her face was closed, reserved, eyebrows neutral. Her mouth turned up into some semblance of a smile when she saw Lapis looking.

     “Who was that?” Lapis asked after a second, trying not to let suspicion enter her voice. It had been _weird,_ how violently Peridot had reacted.

     “Oh, nobody,” Peridot answered with suspicious casualness, settling back on the couch, and why had she hesitated before she said that? “Just a girl from my sociology class.”

     Lapis blinked. A horrible little worm of jealousy squirmed into her gut with jarring suddenness.

_Akua, Lapis, calm down. She probably just means a friend._

“What did she want?” Lapis asked, struggling to make her voice level.

     Peridot glanced up at this, tilting her head innocently.

“Asking what I was doing this weekend, mostly,” she said. “She keeps wanting to meet up and study. Apparently she’s… highly interested in utilizing my intellect.”

     Lapis gave a noncommittal hum and returned to her book, trying not to betray how she was seething.

 _Interested in utilizing your_ intellect. _Sure, Peridot. Akua, just how naïve are you?_

But maybe she wasn’t being naïve.

     Maybe Peridot was interested in a relationship outside of Lapis, an easy college relationship that didn’t come with a whole planeful of emotional baggage, a baby to care for, or a violent, obsessive ex.

     Lapis knew she was complicated, angry, not that easy to get along with. Abusive, at least emotionally – nobody could go through a relationship with Jasper and come out unchanged, and it had unearthed the worst parts of her, made her lash out at other people when they didn’t deserve it. Peridot didn’t want her. She stared at the page, not absorbing a single word. Jealousy was lurching in her stomach, a tidal wave of angry bile.

     _No. Stop it. You have no excuse to be jealous._

They weren’t in a relationship. Peridot wasn’t hers. The jealousy in her stomach suddenly turned to a jolt of cold fear.

     This was how Jasper had been – her irrational panic that Lapis would leave her if she so much as talked to another person. There had been absolutely no trust.

     She trusted Peridot – but that was beside the point. She had no reason to be jealous. No excuse. If Peridot wanted some cute college girlfriend, someone to cuddle with in a dorm and hold hands with as they strolled across campus –

     Well, Lapis wouldn’t get in the way. She refused to let herself be Jasper.

“I’m going to go check on Mala,” she said, and her voice was tight and small.

     “Mhmm,” Peridot said, her fingers tapping lightly over laptop keys. She didn’t look up.

     Lapis stalked out of the room, a complicated storm of feelings swirling in her chest.

     A few hours later, she hopped off the bus onto the boardwalk, Mala on her hip and her diaper bag slung over the other shoulder. The baby reached towards the water as Lapis stepped down onto the sand and started to walk around the curve of the beach.

     “Mama, makou hele ‘au’au?” Mala asked hopefully, tugging Lapis’s shirtsleeve. She answered with fake cheeriness.

     “A’ole, honey, makou au e hele ana e ike Steven.”

They had to walk for nearly ten minutes to reach the cliffside that sheltered the little bungalow. Lapis trudged up the long, rickety wooden staircase that zigzagged up to the front porch, huffing as she reached the top.

     Mala squirmed with excitement as she recognized the house.

“Ste’en!” she said excitedly as Lapis tapped on the doorframe.

     Steven opened the door, a wide smile on his face and his curly hair standing in disarray all around his head. He had a pretty good tan, his medium-toned skin darkened to a warm brown.

     “Hi, Lapis! Hi, Mala!” he greeted them cheerfully. He was wearing his swimming trunks, a star-patterned T-shirt, and pink flip-flops in his typical summer fashion. “How’s everything?”

     “Hey, Steven,” Lapis said, smiling as she let Mala down on the floor. She immediately stood and went to Steven, who picked her up carefully under the arms and cuddled her. “Everything’s…pretty good, actually.”

     “And you and Peridot’ve been…getting along better?” he asked with careful innocence. Lapis smiled at his efforts.

     “Yeah. We’re good now. I, uh – Mala loves her, at least.”

Steven grinned widely. Lapis tried valiantly not to let her cheeks flush.

     “That’s good,” he said, putting the squirming baby down to the floor. “She was really worried about messing up.”

     Lapis felt a quick prickle of shame remembering how she’d treated Peridot the first few weeks.

     “Well, she only messed up kahi mea li’ili’i. She’s lucky I’m such a naturally forgiving person,” she joked. Steven grinned, acknowledging her weak attempt at humor.

     “Yeah. Well – actually, I was thinking of going to Funland tonight. Garnet and Pearl said I could go by myself, but it’s really not as much fun without friends.” He watched hopefully for her reaction. “Do you guys want to come with me? Since you’re - getting along now? It’ll be like a da –“

     Lapis cleared her throat. She felt her cheeks redden despite her best efforts.

“I – thanks, Steven. That sounds nice. I’ll have to ask Peridot, though.”

     Steven nodded enthusiastically.

“Yeah, of course! Just let me know before eight,” he said.

     Lapis nodded.

“Sure. I’ll be back for Mala at five,” she said. She caught the baby as she toddled by and swung her up, dropping several kisses on each chubby cheek.

     “Ma _ma!”_ Mala protested, giggling and kicking.

“I’ll see you when my surfing lessons are done, Ono,” Lapis said, feeling the usual pang of guilt as she prepared to leave. “Be good, have fun with Steven. I love you.”

     “Love you Mama,” she said, grabbing Lapis’s hair gently. She didn’t protest as she was handed over to Steven.

     Afterwards, as she collected Mala and they got on the bus home damp and tired, she wondered if Peridot would want to go to the boardwalk. A little flutter danced in her chest, a minnow of nervousness swimming in tight circles. A highschooler asking her crush out. Her cheeks were hot again. She rolled her eyes at herself and tried to relax as the bus trundled towards their street.

     She entered the apartment and dropped her bag, humming a little under her breath. Mala squirmed to get down, and when Lapis let her she toddled quickly towards the hallway.

     “Where are you going, Mala?” Lapis called, following on her way to the shower.

“I find Per-da,” the baby replied, stopping at Peridot’s door and tapping on the doorframe in a tiny parody of a knock. “ia ma 'ane'i?"

     Lapis smiled.

“A’ole, honey, she’s not in there. She’s at work right now.”

     Mala stepped away from the doorframe.

“Why?” she asked, her face crumpling into a scowl. Lapis tried not to sigh.

     “Because grownups work, Ono. We need money to live, unfortunately.”

Mala looked up quizzically.

   “We both eat?” she asked, head tilted.

Surprised, Lapis broke out into a smile.

   “Yes. So that we can eat. Are you hungry, Mala?”

The baby nodded, then reached up. Lapis scooped her up and carried her to the kitchen.

     “When Per-da back?” she asked as Lapis settled her into the high chair.

“Soon,” Lapis replied, rummaging in the fridge for any leftover food. Happiness shone suddenly in her, the unexpected brightness of the sun breaking through clouds. “She’ll be back very soon.”

 

                                                                *   *   *   *   *

 

The stairs were torturous, thick with undisputed summer heat. Peridot reached the third floor huffing.

     _Stars, I wish I had a drink right now._

She leaned on the dingy wall of the hallway and breathed for a slow minute, feeling her throat drying out like a mudflat baking in the sun. She finally straightened and unlocked the door, shoving automatically into the apartment.

     The living room was empty, but the pattering rush of the shower was loud behind the bathroom’s closed door. She detoured into the kitchen and took a long drink of water, the late afternoon sun slanting through the window and reflecting shimmers and lines off the water that stood in the sink.

     Peridot lugged her bag into her room and let it drop to the floor, humming slightly, off-key and rusty. She realized that she was excited to see Lapis again, some small chorus of raindrops plinking in her chest.

     _It’s only been six hours,_ she thought, bemused at herself, but that didn’t change the gladness.

     She heard the water stop, the bathroom door open, Mala’s laughter as Lapis said something she didn’t catch, and then tiny footsteps thudding irregularly through the hall. A curly head poked through the doorway.

   “Per-da!” the baby said in delight. She ran into the room with a toddler’s signature wobbling, the barely balanced gait that never failed to make Peridot wince.

     She squatted down and reached out, not confident enough to catch the baby and pick her up at full momentum.

     “Hello, Mala,” she said as the baby collided with her, a ball of hyperenergetic enthusiasm. “Did you get tired of being around your mama?”

     Mala shook her head, her curls flying.

“A’ole!” she said, the _of course not, silly_ implied in her voice. She looked up, and Peridot’s heart melted a little as she smiled widely, the few teeth she had glinting like miniature pearls. “Wanna see _you_ now.”

     “High praise,” Peridot said, picking her up gently and standing. Her knee twinged.

Lapis stuck her head into the room, hair wet, sleek and dark as a dripping seal. A towel was wrapped around under her arms, her bare shoulders sprinkled with droplets of water. Peridot tried hard to ignore the little shockwave that trembled through her.

    “Welcomed back by my wayward child,” she said.

“What a welcome it was,” Peridot returned with a little smile.

     Mala squirmed, and Peridot let her down. She promptly ran past Lapis and out of the room, shrieking with laughter as her mother half-tried to catch her.

     “I take it your surfing lessons were successful?” Peridot asked, averting her eyes as Lapis adjusted her towel, a flash of smooth thigh visible through the movement of the thick fabric. Her face was volcanically hot.

     Lapis shrugged.

“Depends on how you define success. Nobody drowned,” she added with a crooked grin. “I teach younger kids, so most of them are kind of scared of going out far enough to catch a good wave, or can’t handle the board by themselves. It’s – not what I imagined. When I first wanted to teach.”

     Peridot hummed sympathetically, not knowing quite what to say. Lapis’s hair dripped, wetting the floor.

     “What would be your ideal group to teach?” she asked. Lapis appeared to muse on that for a second.

     “I don’t know. Probably teenagers?” She smirked slightly. “At least I’m not back on the island, trying to teach all the lolo haole tourists. Shark bait.”

     Peridot blinked, taken aback.

“Wow. I don’t know what half of that meant, but I’ll assume it was fairly savage.”

     Lapis snorted her little laugh, but was quickly interrupted by a loud crash. Peridot jumped; it sounded like furniture toppling to the floor. Lapis just winced.

     “Uh-oh,” came a small voice from down the hall.

“Better go see what she destroyed,” Lapis said, half-sarcastic, and moved swiftly out of the room.

     Peridot hesitated for a second, then called after her.

“Need any help?”

     Mala answered, unconvincingly, before Lapis could.

“A’ole! We fine.”

     Grinning, Peridot heard Lapis laugh before she replied.

“No thanks, Mala’s right. She just pulled the fan out of the window.”

     Peridot shook her head, pulled her laptop out of her bag, and went to sit in the living room with the hope that Lapis would join her. After she was dressed.

     A few minutes later, she did. She was wearing a short skirt and a tight tank top, carrying Mala on her hip. The baby was starting to get tired, hitting her afternoon slump; her head drooping like a wilted flower on Lapis’s shoulder.

     She settled on the couch, baby in her lap, and picked up her book. Hesitating before she took the bookmark out, she turned to Peridot.

     “Hey. I was, ah, meaning to ask you before – I got distracted – but anyway.” Peridot closed her laptop halfway, her curiosity piqued. _Why does she sound nervous?_

     Lapis took a breath and continued with something entirely random.

“Have you ever actually been to Funland?”

     Peridot blinked, bemused. The boardwalk had never held any appeal to her – between the thousands of people that inconvenienced the city for the sake of it and the humiliating fact that staff at theme parks always felt it necessary to test her height before they let her ride anything, she wanted no part of the place. Generally speaking, of course.

     “No. I’ve always regarded it as a tourist trap.”

Lapis nodded as if she had expected this.

     “Well… I went to Steven’s to drop off Mala before work, and he was asking if we wanted to go to the boardwalk tonight. If you want. With him,” she added quickly.

     A warm thing swelled triumphantly in her chest. Was Lapis actually looking to spend time with her?

     There was a pause. Lapis took her surprised silence as rejection of the idea, and spoke quickly.

     “It’s only an option, obviously, I don’t know if you’d rather stay home or if you had anything else planned, but it would probably only be for an hour anyway, Mala would need to get to bed –“

   Peridot closed her laptop, interrupting as gently as possible.

“I would love to,” she said. Lapis’s mouth snapped shut before curving into a smile.

     Peridot felt her face flush, and she cleared her throat.

“An interesting social experiment – trying to be a tourist in my own city,” she said. Lapis’s smile widened into almost a smirk.

     _Oh stars, she knows._

But then she nodded.

     “I – yeah. For – experimentation’s sake.”

Dinner consisted mostly of Lapis trying to keep Mala, energetic after a nap, from throwing her food with middling success. Lapis sighed as she regarded the mess of tomato sauce and snaky strands of pasta that adorned the table and floor.

     “Ugh. Time to hit the cleaning supplies,” she muttered, “no sense in changing until this is over with.”

     Peridot blinked. Mala, who had been freed from her high chair and mopped up with a damp washcloth, toddled into the living room.

     “Changing?”

Lapis looked over, one eyebrow raised.

     “’Ae. Surprisingly enough, I like to look nice for a – a night out,” Was it her imagination or was Lapis blushing?

     Peridot got up from the table. In her humble opinion, Lapis already looked perfect.

     “Go, improve your already perfectly, ah, presentable appearance. I’ll take care of the mess,” she said. Now Lapis wasn’t the only one blushing.

     “Cool,” Lapis said with a grin. “Mahalo. Cleaning stuff’s under the sink.”

She disappeared into her room, taking Mala with her, and Peridot’s nose wrinkled in disgust as she started to scrape solidified spaghetti from the edge of the table.

     _The things we do for lo –_

She killed that thought abruptly, feeling her ears darken to crimson.

     When she heard the door of Lapis’s room open ten minutes later, the mess was gone. Peridot tossed a tomato-stained rag into the sink and turned.

     “I used th – umm…“

Whatever inconsequential thing she was about to say about cleaning faded from her head, and she trailed off with a little exhale.

     Her first impression was how _soft_ Lapis looked. In sharp contrast to her usual tight skirts and dark crop tops, she was wearing a long, pale blue dress that flowed around her like water, coming almost to her ankles and fitted only at the waist. It seemed to accentuate the slight flare of her hips, the roundness of her smooth shoulders, and the fullness of her heart-shaped face rather than the skinniness of her ribcage or the almost aggressively sharp point of her chin. She had used something, some minimal amount of makeup Peridot was clueless about, that made her eyes look large and even darker than usual. The only normal part was her feet – bare.

     She looked like someone out of a fairy tale. A blue-haired princess woken from some cursed or nightmarish sleep.

     Peridot blinked. Her head was thrumming almost as much as her chest, a kind of pleasantly speechless chaos she refused to name.

     Lapis smiled widely, differently. It was almost shy, the way she smiled, but not quite. Not lacking her confidence, but something hard around her eyes was gone, some tension that was unnoticeable until it was missing.

     “Ready to go?” she asked.

Peridot nodded, thanking the stars that Lapis didn’t ask her how she looked.

     They boarded the bus together, Malachite snug in her sling.

They scanned for Steven at the edge of the boardwalk. The sky was perfect, cloudless, tuned to the seemingly endless summer twilights when the day refused to go and the night obliged. A few stars, up high, mingled with a pale gradient of lavender that washed the flat sea into something equally serene. The sun was still setting, painting a wide stripe of gold too bright to look at on the sea.

     “Hey!” Steven called, grinning and waving. He should have looked like one of the tourists that thronged the boardwalk, with his pink flip-flops and his denim shorts and his tan, but he didn’t. There was some air of belonging that he carried, a friendly sense of home that made people smile and ask for directions.

     Peridot waved back. Lapis spoke to Mala.

“Look, we get to see Steven again today,” she said, and the baby made a sound of wordless excitement.

     “Hi, Peridot! Oh, Lapis, you look so pretty,” he said with a sweet smile, giving her a side-hug to avoid squashing Mala in her sling. Peridot silently agreed.

     “Thanks. I thought so,” she said, grinning.

“Yes, we need to go places more often. Or less often. I feel severely underdressed,” Peridot said half-jokingly, glancing down at her ratty sneakers and hole-riddled jeans.

     Lapis smirked at her, some of her customary snark returning.

“Oh, you look fine. Kind of like the bargain department of a thrift store, but good. Nobody expects you to go to the boardwalk in a tux and corsage.”

     “Don’t insult my sense of style, you clod. It’s obvious that I shop in the expensive part of Goodwill,” she said. Lapis laughed.

     “Hey, let’s cut the backhanded compliments and agree that everyone looks really nice,” Steven interrupted diplomatically.

     “Oh, she’s fine,” Lapis said. “Backhanded compliments are better than nothing. Which is what she usually gets,” she added with a sly glance at Peridot.

     “Wh – that is false!” Peridot said indignantly. “I will have you know that just last week, on the campus of Beach City University, I was deemed _cute_ by a girl I was barely acquainted with.”

     Lapis blinked.

“Doesn’t happen to be the same girl from your sociology class, does it? The one who keeps calling you?”

     Her voice wasn’t quite even. Peridot blinked, but before she could answer Steven interrupted again with a nervous smile.

     “C’mon, guys, we’re wasting daylight! Let’s go!”

Peridot snorted.

     “Daylight is a relative term, but I agree with Steven. Let’s go.”

Lapis shrugged. Mala squirmed to escape from her sling. Lapis let her down, and she grabbed Steven’s leg happily.

     “Ready to have fun?” Steven asked, gesturing at the entrance to the park, where long lines of people, four across, snail-crawled up to the jammed turnstiles.

     “Looks like _so_ much fun,” Lapis said, a bit sarcastically, but Steven shook his head.

“Oh, don’t worry, we’re not going in _that_ way.” Mala tottered over to Peridot, pulling at her pants leg, so she picked her up as Steven started leading them around the side of the line. He grinned. “When you’re with me, you get employee benefits. That includes the secret entrance.”

     “Mister Smiley!” he said happily, waving to the tall, dark-skinned man with the loud shirt and tidy little beard who was passing tickets out by the dozen.

     “Hmm? Oh – hello, Steven,” he called back, harried. “You coming in for fun? Go on. I don’t have the time to check y’all in right now.”

     “Thanks a lot!” Steven called cheerfully, and Peridot and Lapis exchanged grins as they sneaked past the head of the line as unobtrusively as possible, slipping past the turnstiles through a tiny, shrub-shrouded gate that Steven opened and held for them courteously.

     The boardwalk was no less crowded inside the gates. People strolled along in a tide - families with ice cream or cotton candy dripping from large cones, groups of teenagers in short shorts chattering as they waited on long lines for rides, couples on the beach walking in silhouette against the water.

     Mala squirmed to get down, but Peridot passed her over to Lapis, who set her on the ground in front of her with both hands held securely.

     “Where d’you guys want to go first?” Steven asked. “There’s the roller coasters, the teacups, the arcade, the fry shack!”

     Lapis glanced down at Peridot. She shrugged.

“We’re fine with wherever,” Lapis said with a smile. “Pick a direction and let’s start walking.”

     “Forward, then,” Steven said with a little skip.

“So how is everything, Steven?” Peridot asked as they began to make their way aimlessly up the boardwalk. Stars, she nearly had to look up to see him now. Unfair.

     He smiled and shrugged.

“Well, living with Garnet, Amethyst and Pearl is great. I’ve been helping Dad at the car wash on the weekends.” He paused, frowning a little. “Connie’s going on vacation for an entire month, so that’s kind of a bummer.”

     Peridot couldn’t resist.

“That’s unfortunate. Will you two survive unattached at the hip?” she teased.

    Steven blushed slightly, but an embarrassed smile made its way back onto his face – better than no smile at all.

     “Yeah, probably. I’m working on some new songs for us to play when she gets back.”

     Lapis seemed perfectly content to be quiet, and Peridot glanced over a couple times to make sure she wasn’t overwhelmed or upset. She wasn’t – every time she caught Peridot looking she gave a relaxed smile. Mala was happy too, pointing with wide eyes at every other thing; she looked like a little bird flown from a forest into a city.

     Then they were passing a horribly tall ride, wooden slats crisscrossing underneath improbable loops of track. Lapis turned to her, a mischievous smile stretching her mouth into something sharp.

     “Do you like roller coasters?” she asked. Her eyes gleamed.

Peridot wrinkled her nose, already shaking her head.

     “Nope. No way,” she said, but Lapis grabbed her wrist, her fingers a warm bracelet spelling out Peridot’s own enamored destruction.

     “One ride,” Lapis said, “I dare you.”

Peridot groaned, knowing she couldn’t refuse.

     “What are we, in grade school?”

She held out for another few seconds, but then Lapis turned to her and oh _god_ she was actually doing puppy-dog eyes, looking up through her lashes with a ridiculous pleading expression –

     “Fine,” she blurted out, “but if I die on this clodding machine, rest assured my malignant ghost will haunt you for the rest of time.”

     Lapis grinned, triumphant, and passed Mala to Steven.

“You won’t die, Peridot,” he said reassuringly.

     “Of course she won’t. But it wouldn’t be a day if she weren’t paranoid about something,” Lapis said.

     “Yes, your humorous observations never cease to amaze,” Peridot said sarcastically. Lapis just grabbed Peridot’s wrist again and tugged her towards the long line.

     “I know, I’m pretty hilarious. C’mon, we’re doing this before you change your mind!”

     “Wait, guys! Take this,” Steven called. He tossed a small keyring at them. Peridot caught it, barely, with her free hand. A plastic tag read _Funland Employee Pass._

     “Now you can skip the line,” he called. Mala waved, smiling, and repeated, “Skip th’ine! Skip th’ine!”

   Peridot flashed him a thumbs-up, and Lapis tugged her to the front of the colossal line, ignoring the glares and mutters of the people who had probably been waiting for close to an hour.

     There was a teenager at the front, bored.

“Welcome to the Himalayan Drop Coaster,” he said without looking up, “I’ll take your ticke –“

     He did a little double take, stopping to squint at them. His eyes went to Lapis’s bare feet. Peridot handed Lapis the pass, and she shoved it under his nose.

     “Yeah, um, we work here,” she said lightly, covering the name and ID conveniently with her thumb. He started to sputter, a frown creasing his eyebrows as his eyes gained some expression.

     “Hey, wh - wait – is she even tall enough to –“

Peridot snatched the pass back and pulled Lapis by the hand, slipping them both through the turnstile with a “Wow, thanks!”

   They collapsed into a car near the front of the track, covering their giggles as they waited to see if he would come after them.

     “Wow,” Lapis whispered when she got her breath back, “I can’t believe I’ve converted you to a life of crime. On the run from the authorities.”

     “He deserved it, commenting on my height,” Peridot said, her voice full of false righteous annoyance. Lapis giggled.

     “Actually,” she said, “I’m pretty sure the height cap for this is five feet – “

“Don’t say it!” Peridot groaned, tossing her arm over her eyes.

     “Oh, but it’s so much _fun,_ ” Lapis said, a catlike smile on her face. “I lo –“

Peridot winced and put a finger to her lips. More people were filing onto the ride, and they slouched down as low as they could in their seats, avoiding eye contact and curious looks.

     There was a garbled announcement on the loudspeakers, and the mechanized bar folded down from the top of the seat. Peridot rattled the bar with both hands after it locked in place, concerned with how much excess space she had in the seat – her stomach was a good five inches from where she was pretty sure it was supposed to be.

     Lapis grinned and wriggled a little, gripping the bar tightly on either side of her shoulders.

     “Akua, I haven’t ridden one of these in years,” she said. Peridot swallowed.

“I’ve never ridden one,” she said, and her stomach clenched queasily as the car lurched forward, edging out onto the track.

     Lapis looked over, surprised. She grinned at how tightly Peridot was clutching at the sides of the bar.

     “Wow, you need to live a little,” she said. Peridot squeezed her eyes shut as they started clicking over the rickety track. They hit the first hill, the car tilting and climbing upwards at a disturbing angle. There were some cheers from the other riders, and she could feel her pulse hammer behind her eyes.

     She startled as she felt a hand on top of hers. She opened her fist and Lapis slipped her hand into hers, gave it a warm squeeze.

     “It’s better if you open your eyes,” she heard Lapis say, and after a moment’s hesitation, Peridot did.

     Her mouth dropped open. They were still moving, very close to the top of the hill, forty or fifty feet in the air. She had a split second to admire the view – the dusky beach stretched past on either side, the scant last light of the day leaving scattered chips of dark gold on the water. The surf roared sonorously, so distant down below, and the carnival lights twinkled on the boardwalk like tidy lines of fireflies. The crowds of people were like bustling ants.

     Lapis was grinning straight at her, the wind whipping her hair across her face in a mess of dark lines, her face bright and happy and so _young._ Peridot’s breath caught. She felt a terrible unsteadiness in her stomach, thought whether that was from Lapis’s hand in hers or the nothingness that dropped steeply from either side of them she didn’t know.

     Then they were plunging forward and down, the car speeding through the air like a bullet in something terrifyingly close to a free-fall. She shrieked and it was ripped away by the wind. A rushing in her ears, the sensation of speed like an enormous hand pushing her back against her seat, Lapis laughing and whooping as the sea and the sand and the sky all whirled together in a light-and-dark mishmash of nausea and movement. They were upside down, rightside up, over hills and through loops and all Peridot could focus on was their hands, connected, hot and sweaty and alive with adrenaline and something else, some feeling that was passing through and jumping between them like a current of electricity. Somewhere a circuit breaker was flipped to open in her chest. She finally opened her mouth and laughed with exhilaration, and Lapis raised their hands up high, over both of their heads.

     Then they were done. The car squeezed to a slowdown on flat track, then jerked them backwards in their seats as it halted. The bars flew up. Peridot let her breath out in a huff.

     Lapis was still smiling widely as she pulled Peridot out of the seat. They stumbled quickly off the platform before any employees could see them, and they were out and down a short staircase, emerging behind some bushes. Peridot still wasn’t certain on her feet, and she staggered and tripped on some uneven bit of ground. Lapis caught her deftly, giggling as she held Peridot up under the arms. Their stomachs pressed together in what was very close to a hug, warm and pliant, her face buried briefly in Lapis’s front.

     _Oh my stars –_

Her ears were burning furiously. She righted herself, pushing away from Lapis with gentle breathlessness.

     “That was fun,” Lapis said, holding a branch out of the way. Peridot nodded as she ducked under, soft leaves brushing her face. “And look at that – you survived after all! I was right.”

     “Very funny,” Peridot muttered as they moved back onto the boardwalk. “Let’s go find Steven. I could use…“ She trailed off. What could she use? A drink? A sedative? Her head spun, her legs were like water, and her heart felt like a bird behind her ribs, beating itself to death against a window it thought was open air.

     Lapis paused to look at her.

“Are you okay?” she asked, the smile fading. “I – did you not want to – sorry, I didn’t mean to make you –“

     Peridot shook her head and cursed herself for making Lapis feel bad.

“I’m fine. Just trying to calculate an approximate number of brain cells lost to whiplash on that clodding thing.” She staggered backwards, exaggeratedly this time, and rolled her eyes back in her head.

     “You don’t lose brain cells to _whiplash_ ,” Lapis said incredulously, and Peridot nodded, still loopy. Lapis started to laugh, then bent double in silent mirth as Peridot lost her balance for a second time and ricocheted off a couple walking hand-in-hand the other way.

     “Hey, watch it, buddy!” the boy said, clearly annoyed, and Peridot apologized. They walked away, the girl twitching her long hair back to glance curiously over her shoulder.

     Lapis straightened, wiping the corner of her eye.

“Smooth,” she choked out, and Peridot couldn’t help but grin.

     They walked back around the platform of the ride, past the line to where Steven and Mala were waiting by the short fence.

     “Mama! Per-da!” Mala called from Steven’s hip as she saw them approaching, struggling to get down. Steven waved, still holding her securely, and started to walk towards them.

     Lapis picked Mala up under the arms and swung her up overhead, smiling as she laughed and kicked.

     “You survived!” Steven said, grinning at Peridot. “How was it?”

“Fine,” she said. “I didn’t die, but I’m not certain I’m entirely alive anymore.”

     “You liar,” Lapis crowed, then to Steven: “She’s more alive than she’s ever been.”

Peridot snorted.

     “Actually, you’re right,” she said, sarcastic wonderment dawning in her voice. “I can feel every part of my body on a molecular level.”

     Steven giggled.

“You can feel every caress of the breeze off the ocean,” he added.

     “You can feel every iota of the universe’s energy as it flows from the air to your lungs to your bloodstream,” Lapis said, with sarcasm to match Peridot’s.

     Peridot laughed, then shifted uncomfortably.

“Actually, I can feel every milliliter of liquid collecting in my bladder,” she said. “Steven, where’s a bathroom?”

   Lapis snorted, cuddling Mala to her hip. The baby played with the thin strap of her mother’s dress.

     Steven smiled.

“Well, there’s one near the arcade and one near the entrance. But… there also happens to be an employee-only one near the ice cream place,” he said winningly. “If you don’t want to have to wait in line for a whole lot of time.”

     Lapis laughed, tilting her head.

“Well, c’mon. Let’s get this boy some ice cream. A’ole manawa e luku aku, he might not survive much longer.”

     Peridot grinned and Mala laughed as Steven clutched his stomach with a groan.

“You’re right,” he wheezed. “I… may _expire_.”

     They found the bathroom (and, consequently, the ice cream shop) after ten more minutes of walking. Steven handed Peridot his employee keyring again.

     “Go around the side there, and use the fob to unlock the door on your left,” he explained, gesturing towards the narrow space between two buildings.

     “You want us to get you ice cream?” Lapis asked.

Peridot smiled but shook her head.

     “No thanks. Lactose intolerant.”

She hurried into the alleyway, a little of her nausea returning at the heavy fried smell of funnel cake that was pouring in a cloud of steam from a vent on one building’s side. At least it masked the smell of the dumpster that squatted at the end of the alley like a heavyset animal. The paint on the bathroom door was peeling, but the electronic fob reader was still in good order. It admitted her with a small beep and click when she held up Steven’s fob.

     The bathroom was small and badly lit. Peridot coughed at the sharp ammonia-cleaner smell and finished quickly, washing her hands with cheap foaming hand soap at the cracked sink in the corner.

     She exited backwards, pulling the door closed behind her, turned, and promptly collided with the hulking person who stood blocking her way.

     All her breath went out of her, she heard a surprised sound from the other person, and she went down, feeling a sharp crack of pain as her tailbone hit the ground. A little groan leaked out the corner of her mouth.

     “What the fu –“

Peridot snapped her mouth shut at the voice, a shiver rippling up her back.

     _“Jasper?”_ she said.

Jasper’s face was in shadow, but as her eyes adjusted to the dark, Peridot could make out the outline of her shapely lips, the narrow glitter of her eyes. The pale stripe across her face that contrasted so strongly with the rest of her dark skin - the same vitiligo as Mala.

     “Peridot,” Jasper said neutrally, not offering to help her up.

She stood slowly, wincing at the bite of concrete in her palms. She took a deep breath once she was on her feet, trying to keep her anger in check.

     “Okay. What do you want – or should I assume that you’re here on business and haven’t just stalked me in an alley outside a bathroom?”

     Jasper coughed.

“I don’t think you want to use the word stalked,” she said, her voice staying neutral on the surface but with a clear warning undercurrent as dangerous as a riptide. “I was on the boardwalk tonight and happened to see you. What I want is to know why you don’t pick up your phone.”

     A strange little bark of laughter escaped her. _I usually answer my phone – just not for abusive exes who are constantly threatening my roommate. You’re a special case, Jasper._

   “Because I thought I had made it clear that I didn’t want your input on my relationship with Lapis,” she said. “Abundantly clear. But apparently the message didn’t get through.”

     Jasper scowled.

“You obviously weren’t listening to what I told you, then,” she said, her calm façade cracking. She took a breath. “Look. I don’t want this to be that hard on either of us. But you need to face the facts, Peridot. Lapis still needs me. And I need her. Maybe more than either of us wants to admit.”

     Peridot opened her mouth, ready to let her anger spill out like bile, but Jasper continued.

     “Don’t interrupt me,” she growled through her teeth, then took a moment to calm herself again. “Okay, I know we’ve already had this conversation, and you won’t believe me. So Lapis and me aside for a minute. What about Malachite? Do you really believe any kid deserves to grow up without a parent?”

     The question hit Peridot like a brick in the stomach. She opened her mouth

 _the foster homes, the temporary families, the first time she learned that not all kids grew up in orphanages. that some kids had a mom and a dad of their very own, some parents_ wanted _their kids_

     to say something

_the hope, the big word_

_-adoption-_

_that everyone dreamed but nobody voiced because to do so would have been like breaking some good-luck charm, like throwing a stone through the window of a church_

     but she was helpless, rendered mute.

Jasper nodded, eyes glittering.

     “That’s what I thought. You know, I wanted a kid. I wanted a family so bad.” She swallowed, her throat bobbing. “Still do. So if there’s any chance that I can bring Lapis around, make her think of us being a family again…” She paused, surveying Peridot before administering the killing blow. “I think it would be selfish of you. To deprive Malachite of that chance.”

     Peridot closed her gaping mouth and swallowed back the tears that were swimming behind her eyes. She understood now. How Jasper had kept Lapis with her for so long, had been able to convince her that it was the only way. Because she knew exactly where to strike. She had the cruel accuracy of a cobra, sinking her hollow teeth into the spot where the venom would spread the fastest.

     She lifted her head, letting her tears evaporate in the anger that scorched the back of her throat. She met Jasper’s eyes.

     “You’re wrong,” she whispered, then said it again, louder. “You’re wrong. If you were so interested in having a family, where the hell have you been the past two years of your daughter’s life? And anyway, Mala already has – “ she broke off for a second. Stars help her, she had been about to say two parents. “Mala already has a parent. Lapis is an incredible mother. And you have absolutely _nothing_ to do with that.”

     She took a step forward, and Jasper actually stepped back, shock at Peridot’s fierceness written plainly on her face. Triumph swelled in her chest.

     “So no, I don’t think it would be selfish of me to deprive Mala of something she’s never known and will never need to know. Lapis doesn’t need you. Mala doesn’t need you. And I sure as hell don’t need this!” She was close to a shout, her voice ringing in her own ears, and she quieted, made it dead cold.

     “So I’m telling you for the last time, Jasper. Leave. Us. Alone. We’re happy without you. _Lapis_ is happy without you. And we will continue to be.”

     She stepped forward, meaning to skirt around Jasper, out of the shadows of this alley and this awful confrontation.

     Before she could get there, Jasper slammed her hand against the wall, her arm coming up with lightning speed to block Peridot’s exit.

     “You’re a _fake,_ ” she growled, head lowered, and Peridot noticed the fine web of cracks in the plaster that spread out from around Jasper’s fist, noticed the muscles standing out taut as steel cables in her arms. She felt the first flutter of fear. “You little fucking faker. Why would Lapis want you?” She raised her head slowly, her eyes glittering cold fire. “You’re just some pretentious little collegiate asshole with no leg. Nobody even wanted you when you were a kid – why would anyone want you now?”

     Peridot swallowed, trying to rediscover her fury, but Jasper had drawn herself up to her full height to tower over her by almost two feet, and any anger she had was paled to insignificance by how undeniably, ridiculously _tiny_ she was.

     “You keep talking to me about this like you know what Lapis wants,” Jasper continued, realization dawning in her voice. “But only Lapis can tell me what she wants. You’re _nothing._ If Lapis cares so much about the relationship you two have, then why the fuck am I only getting input from _you?_ ”

     Peridot swallowed, scraping together the last remnants of her bravery. Lapis was right near here. Probably still in the ice cream shop, not more than twenty feet away from them through the wall to their left, and Jasper could charge out of the alley at any moment, find her, grab her by the hair as she stood frozen in panic -

   She straightened up, squaring her shoulders.

“Get out of my way,” she said coldly, thanking the stars her voice was unshaken, and Jasper blinked, some anger giving way to surprise. “Lapis is waiting for me right now.” She swallowed again, tasting metallic fear in the back of her throat at the lie. “I’ll prove that she cares, if that’s what it takes for you to leave us alone. But I’m warning you, Jasper, if you try anything – we have a restraining order for a reason.”

     Jasper blinked for a second before she laughed, though her face was still twisted in a humorless snarl.

     “Pretty ballsy for such a shrimp,” she growled. “Go on. Prove it. I’ll be here.”

Peridot marched out of the alley, trying desperately not to betray the shudder that went through her when she passed Jasper. Her fist was clenched so tightly around Steven’s keyring that she felt the metal and plastic bite viciously into her palm. Her brain sang with regret - every aspect of this plan could go so horribly wrong.

     Jasper let her pass.

She breathed an inaudible sigh of relief when she passed out of the line of shadows back onto the surreal brightness of the boardwalk. She squinted across the boardwalk and was surprised to see the back of a familiar figure, leaning against the railing that overlooked the beach. Her breath caught.

     Lapis was waiting for her after all.

 

                                                                   *   *   *   *   *

 

Lapis hummed, content to let the moment be. She took a deep breath through her nose, feeling the salt air flowing in from the ocean before blowing it back out. The white-noise rush of the waves crashing on the dark beach was as comforting as music.

     She was glad to have a second to herself. Steven had begged to take Mala on the little-kid ride, some miniature whirling teacups, and she hadn’t had the heart to say no.

     “Come with us? It’ll be fun,” he had wheedled, holding Mala so confidently on his hip. Ice cream on both of their faces. A pair of angels in the warmth of the lights, so young and unruined.

     She had smiled but shaken her head.

“I’ll wait here for Peridot. So that she doesn’t come out alone and wonder where we all went.”

     She leaned out into the scent of the sea in summer, her forearms pressing into the cold metal railing. The stars, which had been fading into view one by one, were out in full as the sun finally slipped below the edge of the ocean, giving up to drown with a slow sigh and a last flush of pink. She picked out a few constellations - _Sygnus, Lyra, Scorpius_ – licking the small cold pocket of her ice cream cone and enjoying the sweetness that coated her tongue.

     She was surprised to find that she was having a genuinely good time. Normally she hated places like this, would be overwhelmed by the crowds of people and the tinny music pouring from speakers on the corner of every ride and booth and kiosk, but her head wasn’t aching and a smile lingered on the corners of her mouth. This was a nice break from all the noise anyway, a quiet spot that was a little removed from the endless whirl-and-walk chaos of the boardwalk’s norm. A few people walked by on the beach, but nobody bothered her. She felt strangely bright, a glow of warmth emanating from her chest, and she kept revisiting the feeling of Peridot’s hand in hers, the panicky tightness of her grip on the roller coaster, the swoop and dive in her stomach as they plunged through the sky. Still so familiar, even though she hadn’t felt it in years.

     She heard Peridot’s uneven pace on the boardwalk behind her, a step and a _clunk_ as she emerged from between the two buildings.

     _Finally. I was starting to wonder if she drowned in there._

She turned around, her smile coming out full force. A few butterflies danced in her stomach as she watched Peridot walk over. She was so tiny, and looked like a fairy with the soft lights glinting off her glasses and catching in her curls. Lapis felt some golden sunrise fill her chest.

     Peridot didn’t smile as she approached. Her face was almost somber, determined, and she drew even with the railing she turned and reached up to put her hands on Lapis’s shoulders. Lapis was blown away by the look in her eyes – too complicated to put a name to in the brief second that she had to see it –

     “Peridot –“ she said through numb lips, but she only got that far before Peridot’s hands were moving to each side of her face, so gentle, and –

     Lapis knew how hummingbirds felt now. Her heart was throbbing, too fast to be beating but just continuously vibrating with life, overflowing as Peridot kissed her.

     She was too surprised to move and for a moment just stood and stared blankly, feeling everything and nothing at the same time. The butterflies in her stomach had multiplied exponentially, a whole swarm of them brushing her insides with velvety wings. Peridot’s lips felt like butterflies too, maybe butterflies touching shyly on a flower. Touching with such incredible softness before they landed.

     Her eyes moved down, and she could see with incredible detail every freckle on Peridot’s face, a whole skyful of constellations.

_Pretty._

Distantly, Lapis felt her hand relax, let the remnants of her ice cream tumble to the boardwalk.

     Then her brain caught up with her, giving her one fragmented, stupidly obvious thought

_!!! ia ka honi mai iaʻu_

     before she reacted.

Lapis heard a small, surprised _mmmph_ from Peridot as she grabbed her behind the ears, cradling her head and pressing their mouths together fiercely. Their lips moved discordantly against each other for a moment before they found balance. She was close enough to feel her own eyelashes brush Peridot’s cheek. Peridot wrapped her arms around the back of Lapis’s neck, and Lapis lifted her very nearly off her feet. She closed her eyes.

     Then it was sweet, so indescribably sweet.

Lapis didn’t know how long it lasted, just that it was remarkably similar to the roller coaster. The same swoop and dive inside her, but this time it was filling her head as well as her stomach, twirling in the space behind her eyes. The sky was crashing down around them, combined with the roar of the sea and the taste of chocolate ice cream. They were orbiting a million stars, a hundred thousand galaxies dancing around them in a blur of stardust and supernovas, and the two of them were at the very center of it all.

     Lapis was burning up in her atmosphere, the glow in her chest deepening to the silent speed of a meteor.

     They finally careened to a stop. Lapis didn’t want it to end, and she gave Peridot several quick pecks on the lips and cheek before she could stop herself.

     Peridot looked how Lapis felt – her eyes were barely focused, her lips and cheeks flushed red. Her glasses were askew, and she pushed them back up with a slow, dreamy motion as she untangled her arms and slid back down to the ground. Lapis traced a few freckles on her chin with the tip of her finger.

     They just breathed for a second as the color came back into the world.

Peridot’s arms had slipped around her waist, and though her face was still tilted up, she avoided Lapis’s eyes.

     “Oh oh akua,” Lapis exhaled, and ran her fingers through Peridot’s hair. Finally. It was soft and smelled of her shampoo, like lime and green apple and coppery metal. She dropped a kiss on Peridot’s forehead, on the little triangular birthmark she had there.

     “Peridot.” Lapis said softly. Their eyes met and her breath caught at the tears she saw, magnifying the flecks of gold that swam in the green.

     “Why now?” Lapis whispered, her throat thick, brushing her thumb over Peridot’s cheekbone.

     “I…” Peridot swallowed but kept her eyes on Lapis’s, and they had never looked greener. “Wanted to.”

     “Good enough,” Lapis said after a moment, and she felt her chest would burst if she didn’t smile. She did, and Peridot finally smiled back, watery and unsure, but that was enough too. Lapis picked her up and spun her, delighting in the little shriek of protest, and then gave her a soft kiss when she set her down.

   “Stop, this is so soppy,” Lapis breathed, shivering as Peridot brushed some hair back behind her ear, warm fingers lingering a little too long on the side of her face.

     Peridot smiled again, her wide grin that slanted up in one corner.

“You’re telling me,” she said. Then she looked around as if realizing something for the first time, her smile fading. “Where are Steven and Mala?”

     Lapis slapped her hand to her forehead.

“Akua, I forgot! They must be off the ride by now!”

     She grabbed Peridot’s hand, feeling a little thrill as their fingers intertwined, and started to lead her down the boardwalk.

   “See, I’m not the only one who lost some neurons to that clodding roller coaster,” Peridot said.

     Lapis laughed, maybe harder than the joke warranted, but it was the only way to release the sunburst in her lungs. A sweep of blue-sky ocean and birdsong that kept a smile on her face.

     _It’s been a long time._

 

                                                                       *   *   *   *   *

 

The next hour went by in a blur.

     Peridot barely said anything – she felt sick with a strange cocktail of exhilaration at what had just happened and repulsion at her own dishonesty. Her heart was still hammering with how Lapis had kissed her – even in her best-case scenario her reaction had never been that…intense. She was wanted too, maybe as much as she wanted Lapis. She kept reaching up to touch her lips, and Lapis would look over, not with her trademark smirk but a genuinely happy little smile, and Peridot would feel another lurch in her stomach, whoops, there goes the roller coaster.

     Steven had looked at them knowingly before they parted, giving them each a tight hug and a cheeky grin before he said goodbye. Probably congratulating himself on being such a matchmaker, and under other circumstances Peridot would have found it amusing. But all she could see was Jasper’s face, flashing with hatred and triumph behind her eyes.

     They got on the bus back home, sat next to each other in the darkened swaying seats with Mala fast asleep against Lapis’s chest. Lapis reached down and held her hand.

     _I can’t do this._

The apartment was dark and quiet. Lapis went into her bedroom and took a few minutes, presumably to tuck Mala in and change her clothes. Peridot dithered in the living room, dread pooling in her stomach when Lapis came quietly from the hallway.

     Lapis smiled and came to her, putting her hands gently on Peridot’s waist.

“So…” she began quietly. Peridot hesitantly moved her hands up to her shoulders, a sad parody of a slow-dance, a waltz that she couldn’t complete. “I’d say we have a lot of lost time to make up for.” She leaned in.

     Peridot tried to close her eyes with her fingers brushing Lapis’s warm skin, tried to give in to the part of her that was screaming to do it, not to spoil it, wasn’t this what she had wanted for months now, but all she could feel was the guilt turning, turning like a restless animal.

     She leaned away, eyes burning.

Lapis opened her eyes, her smile flat.

    “Peridot…” she trailed off briefly, her fingers twisting the fabric of Peridot’s shirt. Nervous. “What’s wrong?”

     She swallowed, feeling a terrible blockage of tears pending in her throat. She had no idea what to say.

     “I…I’m sorry,” she whispered tightly. Lapis’s hands fell from her waist.

“For what?” she asked. So quiet, as if she already knew and was hoping that wasn’t what Peridot meant. The guilt twisted more sharply, a knife in her side. She could barely force the words out.

     “For – for what happened earlier.”

Lapis’s smile slipped off like rain off a leaf.

     “Then why did you do it?” she asked, and Peridot quivered at the coldness seeping into her voice.

     “I – I didn’t have a choice. Someone was there when I came out of the bathroom. Wouldn’t leave me alone.”

     Lapis stepped away from her. Peridot’s pulse beat in her ears. She couldn’t look up.

     “So you used me. To get her to go away,” Lapis stated tonelessly. “You used me like everyone else did.”

     Peridot opened her mouth to deny it, or to apologize, but nothing would come.

“Who was it? Outside the bathroom?” Lapis asked, her voice rising. “Was it Jasper?”

     Peridot finally looked up. Lapis’s face was white, frozen in a terrible bloodless death mask, her eyes like two black holes.

     _“Was it Jasper?”_ she repeated, and she saw everything she needed in Peridot’s face. She reeled, stepping back as heavily as if she’d been hit. When Peridot reached out to her, she flinched away.

     “Lapis, listen. I’m sorry, I’m so sorry, I swear I didn’t want it like this, this wasn’t on purpose –“ Peridot was aware she was rambling, her voice high and urgent and grating even to herself, but Lapis was shaking her head as if there were water in her ears.

     “A’ole,” she said, cutting Peridot off. “I don’t care. How long were you in contact with her? Have you been with her from the beginning?”

     Peridot’s mouth dropped open, a little spark of anger starting in her at the accusation.

     “Seriously?” she asked, shrill, and Lapis winced. “I hate her as much as you do! I’ve been trying to protect you from this practically since I moved in!”

     “So it was for my own good? That you – you lied to me, you’ve been lying to me for _months?_ Au e i manaoio keia. Don’t you _dare_ turn this around on me,” Lapis hissed, “I’ve seen that little trick too many times.”

     “I’m not trying to – I’m –“ Peridot stepped towards Lapis, desperate, hating the suspicious way her eyes were narrowed, her mouth set like she’d tasted something bad.

     “Don’t try to justify yourself,” Lapis interrupted. “Au he paena makemake o keia. I’m so fucking done with being _lied to!”_

     Peridot’s temper flared at the shout, and she snapped back before she could stop herself, the words shooting out like poisoned arrows.

     “So you just refuse to accept or acknowledge the truth? Is that it? You’re so fucking paranoid that if anyone says something you potentially don’t like, you just drown them out?”

     Lapis was shaking her head again, but Peridot couldn’t stop, her voice rising hysterically.

     “I thought we were done with this. I thought you were ready to _trust_ me, or even hear me out. I should have known better – because you don’t need _anyone_ , right?”

     Lapis had grown still, head down, but now she looked up and her eyes were pools of dark matter. Liquid and unforgiving, drowning in some deep sadness. All the anger flowed out of Peridot, leaving her speechless and boneless and drained.

     “I thought you were different,” she said. The smile worked itself back onto her face, but it was horribly wrong. “I should have known better too, Peridot. It always ends like this.”

     Peridot opened her mouth, but before she could speak Lapis looked her dead in the eyes.

     “Do you love me?”

She froze, feeling all the air leave her lungs with a whoosh. Her heart paused for a moment, then gave three flat and hollow bangs. _Yes yes yes._ She couldn’t make herself say anything, and that brief time was enough.

     Lapis shook her head, swallowing soundlessly. Then said five words, her voice low and dead.

     “Get out of here, Peridot.”

“No,” Peridot said, and it seemed to come from very far away. She could feel blood rush from her head, the sense of the world collapsing in. She was losing everything.

     “Yes,” Lapis said, her head snapping up. “Leave. Get out of my house.”

Peridot stumbled forward, reaching for Lapis in supplication, tears blurring her vision and clogging her throat.

     “Please,” she whispered. Lapis stepped back again, shaking her head, eyes wide and dark.

     “No. I’m not _doing this anymore!”_ she screamed, and Peridot inhaled roughly, wondering if her lungs could physically collapse with the weight that was crushing her chest. “You can’t make me feel guilty for doing what I have to. I - _I never wanted this!”_ Her voice broke, a shard of glass digging deep in Peridot’s chest.

     Mala woke up and started to cry in loud, jarring sobs of distress. Lapis stepped unsteadily back towards the hallway, one, two steps, still shaking her head with wide eyes, then spun around and bolted. The door of her room slammed.

     Peridot walked with dizzy slowness to her room. She picked up her backpack. Unzipped. Stuffed in a few shirts that she chose at random off the floor. She found her keys in her pocket as she was walking out. How had everything gone absolutely wrong so fast?

     _Because you did the wrong thing. You risked everything, and then lost it._

She stood in the living room, looking blankly at the two keys in the palm of her hand. The baby’s cries hadn’t stopped. Peridot felt the tears come, finally, and she sucked one more breath in through her nose, feeling her face crumple.

     She hurled the keys as hard as she could at the floor. They bounced with a small clink and clatter, then skittered away to the mouth of the hallway.

     She felt the tears hot and clear on her face, more tears than she thought possible. Her heart hurt, and she couldn’t stand the shadowy room.

     Peridot turned and left. She didn’t lock the door behind her.

 

                                                                 *   *   *   *   *

 

Lapis couldn’t see anything. She had a horrible feeling of implosion, felt sure that her chest would cave in, her ribs would snap and everything in there that was now too big would fly out. Mala was sobbing, standing and clutching the bars of her crib, but Lapis couldn’t go over and make it stop. In a way, she was glad of the noise. She couldn’t hear herself keening over her daughter’s tears.

_I ake ae au ua a make._

Lapis collapsed, dropping her face to her hands, her head buzzing with static and some roaring, enormous despair.

     For the first time in two years she cried.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> translations:
> 
> akua - god
> 
> makou hele 'au'au? - we go swimming?
> 
> makou au e hele ana e ike - we're going to see
> 
> kahi mea li’ili’i - a little bit
> 
> ia ma 'ane'i? - is she in here?
> 
> lolo - crazy
> 
> haole - white person
> 
> shark bait - pidgin slang for tourists who are so white they attract sharks in the water
> 
> 'ae - yeah
> 
> mahalo - thanks
> 
> a'ole manawa e luku aku - no time to waste
> 
> ia ka honi mai iaʻu - she's kissing me
> 
> oh oh akua - oh my god
> 
> au e i manaoio keia - i don't believe this
> 
> au he paena makemake o keia - i'm done with this
> 
> i ake ae au ua a make - i wish i were dead
> 
> *chapter title: luluâ'ina - freckles


	7. manaolana

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> tw for detailed descriptions of depression & dissociation as well as disordered eating

Peridot rolled over, half-asleep. Her hand hit the wooden coffee table and she jerked awake, confused in a myriad of cloudy dreams for a second before everything crashed back down.

     She sighed at her sore back and sat up to put on her glasses. The hard slats of the couch dug into her tailbone. She looked around at the high wooden ceilings crisscrossed with beams, the little island kitchen. The large, beautiful portrait of a pink-haired woman, a bit too shrine-like for Peridot’s taste, that dominated the room. Early light poured in through the tall windows, and seagulls wailed like fighting cats outside.

     Even two weeks later, she still wasn’t used to waking up in Steven’s house.

She lay on the couch for a while, not wanting to get up. Her head was heavy as a block of cement. Her chest felt the same. She was dully surprised at how _physical_ the hurt was, how nobody ever talked about heartbreak actually making you feel you were experiencing a heart attack every waking minute. _Heartbreak._ How she loathed that word and all its stupid soppy overdramatic connotations.

     She got up very slowly, taking several minutes to strap on her prosthetic. She grit her teeth at the tears that sprang to her eyes when it rubbed against her bruised skin. That was another thing she hated, that books and movies and shows never mentioned when somebody was heartbroken – the constant need to cry. She would never deign to call herself a weepy person, but now she felt an almost perpetual sting of tears. Everything and anything could set her off; the bus being late, two birds sitting together on a telephone wire, seeing someone holding a baby. She found herself very often telling people she had allergies.

     What Peridot hated most of all was the helplessness, the stupidity of being able to do nothing except sit and wait for it to be over. She wanted to run, pound the sadness out through her feet, scream from the top of her lungs with the frustration and cold-blooded despair, shred her throat and let her stupid, fragmented, disgustingly vulnerable heart out to be ripped away by the wind.

     Instead, she went to brush her teeth.

 _Lapis, Lapis, Lapis_. The constant refrain in her head. Lapis perched on the arm of the couch with remarkable balance, her feet tucked underneath her like a curled-up cat. Lapis stirring something in the kitchen, bringing the spoon up to her mouth to taste and sticking it back in the pot when she thought Peridot wasn’t looking. Lapis on the beach, golden and sunsoaked, the depth of the ocean in her smile. Lapis on the boardwalk kissing her, hands warm behind her ears, tasting of chocolate ice cream. The way she had lifted Peridot up, wrapped her arms around her waist and pressed the two of them together like layered flower petals. Like they were the only two people in the world.

     Lately, she had noticed her heart beat in threes. _Thud-thud, Thud-thud, Thud-thud. La-pis, La-pis, La-pis._

     She spat. Her worn green toothbrush didn’t belong here, in Steven’s neat, pink little bathroom with the cheerful bathmat and star-printed shower curtain.

     Peridot knew she would have to move on soon, but for now she didn’t have the energy.

     She sat for a while, the tile floor cold against the backs of her legs. Her toothbrush sat precariously on the edge of the sink. She leaned against the wall, closed her eyes.

     A light tapping. Her head jerked up.

“Peridot, are you in there? Sorry, I gotta go.”

     She stood laboriously and opened the door. Steven, his eyes puffy and his hair still mussed from sleep, smiled at her. She could tell he was concerned.

     “Were you just sitting in there again?” he asked with hesitation. She shrugged. He frowned. “You should go have some breakfast! There’s still some of that sugar cereal you like in the cabinet, if you want.” He slipped past her into the bathroom, and she turned back to the kitchen. Her stomach growled, a traitorous mark of normality in all this turmoil.

     She got a bowl and sat at the breakfast bar. The dry cereal was scratchy and cloyingly sweet against the roof of her mouth. She chewed slowly.

     She heard some voices coming from the back hallway, where Garnet, Amethyst and Pearl all slept in their room. Peridot felt a little knot of jealousy even thinking about their happy relationship.

     _How in the stars do they do it? I can’t even handle one person without –_

The bedroom door swung open, and Amethyst and Pearl came out in the midst of a conversation that sounded too fond to be counted as an argument. Peridot kept her eyes on her cereal.

     “ – telling you, P, it is _not_ junk!”

“Mmhm. Well, all I’m saying, Amethyst, is that I find it a bit _aggravating_ when I open your closet and piles of – _antiques_ come crashing down. Regardless of the quality of the possessions in question, you can’t deny you’re disorganized.”

     Amethyst chuckled.

“Okay, whatever. Can’t argue with that. But it almost begs the question of what you were doing in there in the first place. Thought your days in the closet were long over, P.”

     Pearl sighed, then smiled at the easy joke, her long fingers coming up to cover her mouth.

     “Too easy, Pierogi.” Amethyst said, then was shushed by Pearl when they saw Peridot sitting there trying hard not to eavesdrop.

     “Good morning, Peridot,” Pearl offered.

She nodded without even trying to smile, pretending not to be fazed by the exceedingly strange context of her boss making breakfast. Taking flour and sugar out of the cabinet and tying an apron over her pajamas. Amethyst hopped onto the stool next to her, appreciatively eyeing Pearl’s slim legs as she turned to get eggs from the fridge, and then brought her attention to Peridot.

     “Mornin’, Peridactyl, howya doing?”

Peridot cleared her throat. Her voice still came out hoarse.

     “I’ve been… considerably better.”

She stared back down into her breakfast, but not fast enough to miss the glance Pearl and Amethyst shared over the counter.

     Steven came out of the bathroom, his face rosy and freshly washed. He gave Pearl a hug.

     “Are you making waffles? Thanks, Pearl! Want any help?”

Pearl smiled fondly down at him.

     “Yes, Steven, I would love some assistance. Can you please get the mixing bowl?” He skipped to over to the cabinets and took down a bowl and a few measuring spoons. Pearl handed him the flour.

     Amethyst looked up brightly as Steven started combining ingredients, whisking and measuring efficiently alongside Pearl. She lunged over the counter, making a grabbing motion with one hand.

     “Oooh, I’ll –“

“ – crack the eggs, I know,” Pearl finished for her, placing two eggs in her palm. Amethyst grinned.

     “It’s like you can read my mind,” she said, pursing her plump lips in a pout of fake thoughtfulness. She scooted up to sit on the counter, crushing an egg in one hand and using her thumb to separate the two halves of the shell with practiced gusto. “Lookit, I’m like Julie Child or whoever. That French chick whose cooking show you like to watch.”

     Pearl flapped her hands in consternation.

“Amethyst, _please!_ You’ll get shells in the batter. Anyway, it’s Juli _a_ Child, and she was not French, merely a master of French cuisine. Please get your feet off the counter, that’s rather unsanitary – Oh, Steven, make sure you measure baking soda carefully, the leavening is absolutely vital to the consistency of the finished product – “

     Peridot slipped down off the stool, trying to take her bowl as unobtrusively as possible. Steven caught sight of her leaving.

     “Oh, Peridot! Do you wanna help too? You could – um – add the vanilla,” he offered.

     She shook her head, her cheeks flushing slightly. She appreciated his belated efforts to include her but still felt worse than irrelevant; she was an intruder in their daily lives.

     “Thanks, Steven, but I’m going to sit on the porch. Try to get some work done. If you don’t mind.”

     She grabbed her laptop bag before anyone could reply, thinking dully about the homework that was piling up.

     Peridot could feel concerned stares prickle the back of her neck, and she went outside anyway.

 

                                                                  *   *   *   *   *

 

The alarm was equally horrible and blessed, jolting her out of a dream of dark heaviness and cold water with a cruelly cheerful tune. Lapis lifted her arm slowly and shut it off. She didn’t open her eyes.

     Every morning. This was like every morning; a brief glint of sunrise between sleeping and waking, and then the abrupt descent back into this gray murk where nothing mattered. Not precisely sadness; more of a fog she couldn’t escape. The reality of her day was a complete absence of caring.

   But then, also, Mala was awake.

“Mama!” she said, thankfully not loud enough to compliment the pounding in Lapis’s head. She sat up slowly, opened her eyes. The floor looked as far away as the bottom of the ocean. Getting out of bed would be as insurmountable a task as climbing a mountain.

     Lapis took a breath, then an exhale. That seemed to be all she could do. Mala was gripping the bars of her crib, so energetic it seemed unreal.

     “Mama, i oe ala?” she asked with a smile, bouncing on the balls of her feet.

Lapis didn’t wonder how one person could be so happy – she wondered how she, just two weeks ago, had been the same way. Two weeks. Fourteen days.

     Mala needed her. Lapis put her feet on the floor, took another breath, and stood. She crossed the room to the crib and picked Mala up under the arms, burying her face in her baby’s hair. Still sweet with sleep. For a relieving moment Lapis felt _something,_ an ill-defined determination to never let the ugly world touch her daughter.

     Then it was gone, and everything slipped back into irrelevance. She ignored the urge to climb back into bed, safe from other people. Smother them both under the blankets and sleep for an eon.

     She walked out into the kitchen and put Mala in her high chair. She was vaguely aware she should eat something as she opened the fridge, but her stomach lurched and shuddered at the sight of the containers of food, still neatly stacked, gone moldy and rancid over the past two weeks. Fourteen days. How long had it been since she’d eaten anything? Two days? Two weeks? Fourteen days; it might as well have been. Her head was spinning, so Lapis stopped trying to figure it out.

     She took out one of the last jars of baby food and popped it open. She set it on the table, then lifted Mala out of her high chair and sat down. The baby’s warm weight was reassuring on her lap. She spooned a little out of the jar and Mala greedily accepted it, grabbing the spoon and reaching for the jar herself.

     Lapis let her eyes drift shut, closing out the world that was too bright. It was a kind of bartering game she played with herself; for every minute spent away from the migraine of the sun, she had to pay with the sadness behind her eyes that was too big to comprehend. No escape from the inside of her own head. This was for Pandora’s box too, something she wouldn’t let herself think about. So she locked away the ocean of despair, and in turn, she got this blank wall, this emotionless existence that was less like drowning and more like lying endlessly in a sensory deprivation tank.

   Two weeks. Fourteen days.

She found herself drifting more and more these days, like a little boat whose rope to the mooring was fraying, fraying. The ocean was rough underneath; it wasn’t all gulls and sunsets. There were riptides too, and storms, the times when the water got black and the waves swelled and screamed to ten stories high, hissed and roared and crashed like battling titans. Lapis knew she would eventually sink. But for now – for now she was in the doldrums, the waves were barely there, the water flat and gray. And she just watched the rope, fraying, fraying, aware she should be doing something but unable to find the motivation or the urgency to do it.

   Mala bounced on her lap, and she startled back into herself.

“Change, ma,” she said plaintively, plucking at her diaper. Lapis stood, went to the bathroom, and cleaned her up, gave her a fresh diaper and a kiss on the forehead. She set the baby on the floor and started to brush her teeth, struggling for a moment with the cap of the toothpaste.

     Lapis vaguely knew she had to go to work at some point. She didn’t want to go to work; she didn’t not want to go to work. It was just another thing to cross off a list, a place to go and pretend that something mattered for a couple hours. Gray on gray on gray.

     She spat, and for a moment saw a bright green toothbrush, frayed but impeccably neat on the edge of the sink. She blinked hard, squeezing her eyes shut for a few seconds, and when she looked again it was gone.

     “Mama? You cryin?” Mala asked concernedly, touching her leg with a tiny warm hand.

     Lapis touched her cheek and was dimly surprised it was wet. She wiped a tear out from under her eye.

     “I’m fine,” she answered tonelessly. She didn’t like it. It sounded too much like she was trying to convince herself of something. “I Ka moana, Ono. Let’s call Sadie.”

     She went back into her room with Mala on her hip, trying to locate her phone. She stood blankly in the doorway for a second before she remembered why she was there.

     _The alarm. The nightstand._

She picked up her phone and tried to keep herself from sitting on the bed because she knew if she sat she would lie down and have to get back up. She called Sadie. The phone’s rings buzzed through her hand, soothingly repetitive. Mala wiggled a little on her hip.

     “Hello? Lapis?”

She blinked at the voice that came from her palm and looked blankly at the screen. Her call had been going on for 22 seconds.

     She cleared her throat.

“Sorry, Sadie. Little distracted. I was wondering if you could come over and watch Mala today? At, uh –“ she searched her brain for the time of her shift, she was for some reason frustratingly slow – “three?”

     “Sure, no problem,” Sadie said, then hesitantly, “Lapis, I’ve been meaning to ask you – are you –“

     “Sorry, I have to go,” Lapis said. “Mahalo, Sadie. See you soon.”

She hung up quickly.

     Mala tugged on her sleeve, and Lapis let her down. She toddled out of the room, and Lapis dropped her phone absentmindedly on the bed to follow her.

     Her heart gave a hollow thump when she saw Mala pushing open the door of the extra bedroom. Not locked, not even latched all the way. Why had she made such a stupid mistake?

     She moved quickly, trying to pull the door shut before Mala got in, but the baby was faster. She slipped past the door into the room, avoiding the piles of things that still adorned the floor, and then squatted to carefully look under the bed.

     Lapis went after her. She closed her eyes at the wave of lightheadedness that swept over her at the smell in the room, of apple and copper and men’s cologne that overlaid a sweetly private, lived-in smell that was now old, musty as a closed window. How quickly it faded in two weeks. Fourteen days.

     She took Mala’s arm and pulled her out, not trusting herself to pick the baby up. She ignored the inevitable protests even as they made her head pulse with bright pain.

     “Ma _maaaaaa!_ A’ole! Au i huli!”

She shut the door firmly and squatted at eye level with the baby, loosening her hold. She ignored how her voice shook.

     “Don’t ever go in there, Malachite. I don’t want you in there anymore. Maopopo i’au?”

     The baby didn’t nod, just looked her mother seriously in the eyes, considering something.

     “Mama, where Per-da?”

Lapis sucked in a breath. Her heart skipped, and for a terrible dizzying second she was back in the room with Peridot, on the bed, and her hand was being held like it might break. Peridot was gone in that terrible dark, swallowed by the angry night, slamming the door shut behind her. Regret, hanging above her in the sky like a dying star. The keys that she had found on the floor the next morning, lying in the border between the living room and the hallway. They had left a long scratch on the floor. She blinked her eyes open again and Mala was pointing back towards the door, her expression earnest.

     “Ia ma ka lumi? She there?”

Lapis shook her head, biting her tongue to kill the lightheadedness. Pandora’s box was cracking, unleashing wind and a rain of tears, and Lapis was sure once it was open wide she wouldn’t have the strength to close it again.

     “She’s not in there, Mala,” Lapis whispered. “She doesn’t live here anymore.”

Mala tilted her head, confused.

     “When she come back?”

Lapis could feel the tears this time, hot and stinging.

     “Aole loa.”

Mala shook her head, frowning.

   “No, ma! ‘Ike akula e komo mai la _ho’i?”_

Something in Lapis, something fragile and sad as a broken-winged bird, shattered.

     “She’s _not coming back!_ Never! Don’t you _get_ it? She left us and we’re done and she’s _never coming back!”_

     She had to shout, shout at the pain and humiliation, the regret and the _feelings_ that all came dragging back like beaten dogs. Everything she hadn’t felt in two weeks. Fourteen days. She hated the sound of her own voice, the loudness, as soon as the words were out of her mouth.

     Mala blinked for a moment, then her face crumpled. She dragged in a long breath, and Lapis saw tears blur over her own vision as the baby started to let out long, hurt wails.

     She fell to her knees, reaching out and enveloping Mala in her arms, pulling her close. Mala tried to struggle away and Lapis took a breath that shuddered down her throat, trying unsuccessfully to stop crying. Eventually, hours or minutes later, the baby stilled, winding down to short, hiccuping sobs.

     Lapis sat folded on the floor, her daughter limp and exhausted in her arms, both of them just breathing. Regret. _I’m sorry, I’m sorry._ Breathing. In, out. Steady as waves on the shore. Sealing up the cracks, or trying. Gray water, gray sky.

 

                                                                 *   *   *   *   *

 

The lecture hall was chilly, if not simply cold, and Peridot shivered in the air conditioning that was blasting down from the vent above her chair. The professor’s droning voice was reaching her ears but not her brain, translated into garbling white noise that paled in comparison to her muddled thoughts.

     Lapis slamming the door to her room, the unapologetic anger burning with the fury of a fire in dry wood. That still upset her – how little trust Lapis had in her, how ready she was to assume Peridot had done something wrong. How quickly she had ruined it all. How drastically she had paid for her misstep.

     _Get out of here, Peridot._

Unwilling to let it go. Stubborn. Angry. Stupid. An instinct for self-preservation, to the extent that a tarnished reputation could be regarded as a threat to social survival. What a ridiculous, complicated, self-absorbed, overglorified species. She buried her head in her arms, feeling her nose flatten against the cool smoothness of her desk.

     She startled at the sudden sound of fifty chairs scraping back at the same time, unleashing a wailing chorus of cats that yowled to a back-alley moon. Everyone was chattering, gathering bags and books and notes and streaming towards the door. Peridot took her time. She felt vaguely sick.

     She didn’t look up until she was out of the wide double doors and in the hallway, when movement caught the corner of her eye. Someone waving frantically, someone who smiled prettily when their eyes met across the busy space.

     Peridot didn’t stop walking as Ana joined her.

“Hey,” the other girl said, somewhat out of breath.

     She jerked her head in what she supposed was a nod.

“Are you…” she trailed off, her bright tone dampening as she looked carefully at Peridot’s expression. “Are you okay? I know sociology isn’t your favorite class, that’s pretty obvious, but you haven’t been as, ah, _vocal_ lately, and you look…” She didn’t directly say _terrible,_ which Peridot appreciated. “Like you haven’t been sleeping well. Or at all.”

     Peridot shrugged, a brittle smile starting. She looked up. Ana nervously twisted a piece of hair between her fingers.

     “Vocal?” she asked, and she could have sworn she saw the beginnings of a blush.

“Like, talking-wise. You haven’t been talking. At all.”

     “Very astute observation,” she said. Colder than then she meant to. Ana bit her lip. She started again, chiding herself for being rude. “I’m going through a…” She hesitated, not knowing if it could even be called a breakup. _My roommate, who I’ve been in love with for months now, kicked me out after we kissed once because I made a stupid mistake?_ “… a myriad of things,” she finished.

     “Any things I could help with?” Ana asked. Peridot smiled again, albeit humorlessly.

   “Unless you have the power to turn back time and reverse severe lapses in judgement and intelligence, then I’m going to go with no.”

     Ana puffed air out from her cheeks.

“Trust me, if I had the power to do _that,_ my life would be a whole lot different right now.”

     Peridot nodded, looking down. She felt an absurd little squirm of disappointment.

“But I’m always around if you need to talk,” Ana said hesitantly. Peridot looked up so quickly her neck cricked. The other girl was hiding behind her hair, only the tip of her nose visible in profile. “Or cry on a shoulder. Or something.”

     Peridot nodded slowly, turning her head back down. They exited the back of the building, passing through the wide doors out onto a path dappled with sun and shade.

     “Where are you headed?” Ana asked, breaking the brief silence. Peridot drew a blank for a moment before it came to her.

     “Computer programming,” she said.

“Really?” Ana asked, confused, and Peridot looked up.

     “Yes, why?”

“Because we’ve been going in the opposite direction of the Quartz Lab this entire time.”

     Peridot looked around quickly. She swore.

“I have to go,” she said, turning back towards the building. It would be faster to go through rather than cutting around, especially consideri –

     Her train of though screeched to a halt as she felt long fingers wrap around her wrist, slim fingers with a pianist’s strength. She was transported back to the roller coaster for a brief second, Lapis’s warm hand intertwined with hers. Then Ana tugged her back with gentle insistence.

   “Wait! Give me one second before you charge off into the great unknown. Here –“

She dug in her bag, produced a pen, and quickly scribbled a string of numbers on the back of Peridot’s hand. _Her_ number. A flower of all things doodled with a flourish at the end, near Peridot’s knuckle.

     “Call me,” she said with a smile. A little dimple in the corner of her mouth. Peridot nodded dumbly, watching as Ana turned and fled, the patches of sun catching on her red scarf that streamed out behind her like a declaration.

 

                                                                   *   *   *   *   *

 

Lapis blinked at the tap on her shoulder, nearly dropping the stack of empty cups she had collected from around the abandoned tables. A patch of spilled coffee was sticky against the heel of her sneaker. She turned.

     Her coworker stood behind her, looking apologetic. Lapis couldn’t remember her name – Alice? Allison?

     “Lacey wants you in the office,” she said, holding her hands out for the tray Lapis was balancing precariously on her arm. She passed it over with a slow nod of thanks, trying to ignore the sinking feeling in her gut.

     The office was a midsized closet in the back of the store, a desk jammed in one corner and every horizontal surface piled high with stray papers. Lapis skirted in, brushing a few crumbs off the chair that was opposite the desk.

     Lacey looked up from her paperwork as she sat down.

“Oh, Lapis.” She stated neutrally, putting her pen down on the desk and scraping her haphazard curls behind one ear. “I wanted to talk to you.”

     “That’s why I’m here,” Lapis said, hearing her voice come out flat and offering what passed for a smile.

     Her boss didn’t smile back.

“I hate to put this so bluntly, but over the past three weeks you’ve been severely lacking in the customer service department,” she said, looking at Lapis over the rims of her glasses.

     Lapis shrugged, vaguely remembering a few times when she hadn’t answered questions directed at her, or not spoken for the entirety of her shift. Had she spilled a few lattes? She thought it didn’t matter. The silence stretched out for a couple seconds.

     “This is what I mean,” Lacey continued, sounding frustrated. “You just seem not to care. Lapis, you haven’t said more than ten words in three weeks. If I didn’t know better, I’d say you’d forgotten how to talk. So you wanna tell me what’s wrong, or if there’s anything I can help with?”

     The older woman was leaning across the desk on her elbows, her eyebrows pinched with well-meaning concern. Lapis’s head was gray gray gray.

     “There’s nothing,” she said after a moment, and her voice was neutral too, flat as the sea on a windless day. “Nothing’s wrong.”

     Lacey’s mouth turned down into a frown. She sat slowly back, a few papers fluttering to the floor as she brought her arms off the desk.

     “Well. I’m sorry it’s come to this, then,” Lacey said. Lapis felt a vague panic start, a long-buried bird fluttering somewhere in her chest. “But you just haven’t been pulling your weight as an employee here these past few weeks. I’m going to have to let you go.”

     Lapis was far away. Her head was buzzing like a chorus of cicadas, shrill and frantic. Her voice seemed to come from underwater, sounding strange to her own ears.

    “No,” she heard dimly. She pinched her own hand, twisting the skin, letting the pain ground her. “Lacey, please. I need this job, I can’t support my daughter –“

     Lacey was shaking her head.

“Lapis, I’m sorry. But there’s demand for your position, you know – college students who need summer jobs. Kids who work hard. And I need to think of what’s best for the shop right now.”

     Lapis stood, feeling the ground tilt under her feet.

“I’d be happy to write you a recommendation,” Lacey said, and Lapis barely heard her. She stumbled towards the door.

     “That won’t be necessary, thank you,” She was faintly aware of saying the words, but didn’t feel like they had come from her own mouth.

     “Lapis –“ she heard, but didn’t turn. She untied her apron, struggling with the knot at the small of her back. She threw it on a chair and stumbled towards the door. Her feet seemed very far away.

     The street was dark and empty. The pools of light from the streetlamps were few and far between. Lapis walked slowly. Little steps. One foot in front of the other. In, out. She kept glancing down at her hands, tracing their lines with her eyes, wondering why they looked so fake. Nothing was real. Lapis stood under the paper cutout of the bus shelter and waited to get home.

 

                                                                   *   *   *   *   *

 

Steven’s front porch quickly became both Peridot’s favorite and least favorite place. On the one hand, its tranquility made it easy to think; the distant hypnosis of the waves crashing down below combined with the wind that drowned out other, more distracting noises made it an extremely conductive environment.

     On the other hand, Peridot found she hated thinking more and more lately.

The more she thought, the more she inevitably turned to that night. How stupid she had been to risk everything. How Lapis, reacting in the way she had, wasn’t completely wrong.

     Peridot had been so dedicated to gaining her trust – the very thing Lapis was most afraid of giving. And once she had it, she had treated it with ridiculous overconfidence. To be fair, she had been afraid, but not for the right reasons. Too afraid of Jasper hurting Lapis to consider that she could very well do it herself.

     Lapis was most afraid of giving herself to people because she believed everyone would eventually betray her. The tiny amount of trust she had left had gone to Peridot – and she had thrown it away in exchange for one bright, beautiful moment that had happened for all the wrong reasons. Peridot had proven to Lapis the very thing she was most afraid of.

     She buried her head in her folded arms, trying to keep the wetness in her eyes to a minimum. She inhaled deeply, smelling the damp, slightly salty smell of the smooth gray wood. The banister was solid, and Peridot leaned against it in the wind. The gulls wailed like mournful widows, circling above in a pointless, endless search.

     The screen door behind her creaked open. Peridot straightened up quickly, trying to be as inconspicuous as possible about wiping her eyes.

     To her surpise, the light footsteps stopped next to her instead of continuing down the stairs. Pearl gave her a little smile and picked up Peridot’s abandoned stance, leaning with her folded arms on the railing.

   “It’s a beautiful evening,” she said, watching the soft glow of the ocean. Her face was delicate in profile, her long nose graceful below the gentle slope of her broad forehead. The sun was on its slow arc down, not quite setting but still managing to tinge the clouds with a barely noticeable blush of pink.

     Peridot nodded.

“How is everything, Peridot? Truly.” Pearl asked after a few minutes, turning her head back. Her brown eyes were bright, more piercing than her question, unconsciously demanding honesty even though she had so gently asked it.

     Peridot laughed a little, a strange humorless laugh. She pushed her glasses up, feeling a helpless anger at herself but directing it at Pearl.

     “Really and truly, cross my heart and hope to die? Everything’s pretty fucking shitty, Pearl.”

     She felt bad immediately after she spoke. Pearl looked stung, her mouth turning down.

     “I – ah, sorry. I’m. Frustrated with – well, with everything, to be honest.”

She looked down, picking at a loose splinter of wood, then startled as Pearl placed a gentle hand on her shoulder.

     “It’s alright,” she said softly, not looking over. “I may be the only one here who understands how terrible it feels. To lose someone you loved with such depth and tenderness. The anger is understandable, if not justifiable.”

     Peridot looked up quickly, a question starting, but Pearl interrupted, her hand dropping back to the railing.

     “Though that’s a rather personal – and long – story for the moment.” She looked at Peridot, who was shocked to see an embarrassed flush on the older woman’s cheeks. She nodded, watched two gulls fighting over a scrap of something on the sand.

     “If I could offer some advice, though,” Pearl began awkwardly, then continued when Peridot look up expectantly. “Perhaps the one thing I regret most is how many years I spent not accepting it. Trying to convince myself she wasn’t gone. I – I damaged many relationships that way, lashing out at people who cared about me. And in the end, how I felt didn’t change her mind.”

     Peridot swallowed.

“I understand,” she said, hating the quiver in her voice. Pearl’s hand returned to her shoulder.

     “I know how it feels now, but you’re so young, Peridot. There will be other chances at happiness. And it’s up to you not to let them pass by.”

     Impressions flashed disjointedly in Peridot’s head. Piano music, simple scales that evolved into a melody. A red scarf. Pale skin, tea and textbooks, a warmly dimpled smile. Not love as she knew it, nowhere close. But a promise.

     It had already been four weeks. One month. The seasons were changing – the breeze was nearly autumnal, the crunch of crisp leaves and crisp air. Now was the brief inbetween, the few sweet weeks that summer and autumn had to love each other in the warm mingling of twilight. A transition, something to be made in the promise of change. Letting go of summer was inevitable.

     She just wasn’t ready – still, not yet. Four weeks wasn’t enough.

 

                                                                *   *   *   *   *

 

Lapis let herself in, the key scraping against the inside of the lock. She smelled something she couldn’t place at first as she entered the apartment, a warm cooking smell.

     “Mama!” Mala called from her high chair. The baby struggled to get down, and Sadie walked into view, a spoon in one hand.

     “Hi, Lapis,” she called, her smile fading.

     Lapis walked into the kitchen and picked Mala up, cuddling her daughter to her chest. She sank into one of the chairs and closed her eyes.

     “I made some soup – I hope that’s alright,” Sadie was saying. “I couldn’t find anything for Mala in the fridge, so I looked in the freezer and found stuff to make chicken stock.”

     Lapis nodded, studying the red-tinted black behind her eyes. Her head was pounding. She heard soup being spooned into a bowl. Something being placed on the table in front of her.

     She opened her eyes. Sadie sat down in the opposite chair and pushed the bowl of soup towards her.

     “Try it for me? I can never tell if I make things too salty,” she asked innocently, and Lapis smiled a little at the bad coverup. She leaned forward to grab the bowl, Mala gripping her shirt, and she could feel Sadie’s eyes on her protruding collarbone.

     The soup was hot, tasted of celery and chicken and sweet carrots. A hint of pepper. Lapis felt her taste buds contract in shock as the food hit them. Her stomach lurched, and she put her hand to her mouth. She couldn’t remember when she had eaten last, but she found it didn’t matter; her stomach sputtered and she seemed to grow hungrier with each mouthful.

     “It’s great. You’re a good cook.” Lapis said. Mala reached for the bowl and Lapis gently pushed her hand away, blowing on a spoonful until it was cool enough for the baby’s sensitive mouth.

     “Thanks. My, ah, friend Lars has been teaching me. He’s amazing. Don’t let him know I told you, though,” Sadie said, her smile returning.

     She sat at the table until Lapis had finished eating, then got up and started to gather her things from the living room.

     “Let me put this in a container for you,” Lapis said, gesturing at the soup on the stove and letting Mala down to the floor. Sadie shook her head.

     “No, it’s fine! Keep it. I made it for Mala, and I used your ingredients anyway.”

Lapis nodded slowly. She sighed very quietly.

     “Mahalo, Sadie. Listen – can I pay you back next week? I –“

Sadie didn’t wait to hear her excuses. She nodded so enthusiastically Lapis was afraid her head would fly off.

     “Of course! Absolutely, that’s no problem at all. Just, um, let me know whenever you...” The _have the money_ unspoken but implied. She smiled at Mala, who was reaching for a picture book on the coffee table. “And I can sit any time this week. Mala and I have fun.”

    Lapis forced a smile and a nod. Her head hurt horribly.

“Thanks so much,” she said, opening the front door. Sadie hesitated before leaving.

     “Lapis… I hate to ask this, but – do you – need any help?” she asked slowly, looking up with earnest eyes. “Because if you need anything at all, I know people, myself included, who would be happy to –“

     “No,” Lapis said, a bit too loudly. She could feel her smile frozen on her face, a block of ice threatening to fall to the floor and break into a thousand crystalline pieces. “Thank you. Nothing is wrong.”

     Sadie winced a little, but managed to look disbelieving at the same time.

“Alright,” she said, “Just… remember there are people who care about you.”

     Lapis nodded jerkily, practically pushing Sadie out into the hall.

She closed the door, wondering when it had gotten so damn heavy. She took three steps towards the kitchen. Her knees were trembling. Her hands too. She sat abruptly on the couch, her heart beating too fast. Her head felt disconnected, a blurred and distant feather caught up in the wind somewhere far above her body.

     Lapis thought of Peridot. She closed her eyes and drifted.

 

                                                                 *   *   *   *   *

 

Peridot was on the porch again, trying and failing to write a thesis for her sociology paper.

     _Romantic love and intimacy are commonly portrayed as necessary elements to humans’ social and mental wellbeing._

She scowled and pressed backspace, kicking at a seagull that landed on the porch. It hopped up onto the railing but didn’t fly away, regarding her with an insolent yellow eye.

     Lapis loved seagulls, affectionately called them rats with wings. At the end of one of their beach days she had stood tossing them scraps of unfinished food until there had been a whole flock around her, dozens of them orbiting like white-winged angels around the sun.

_Societal norms place a strong importance on sexual intimacy, romantic attraction, and –_

     The seagull threw its head back, opened its beak and screamed a wild, undulating call, smooth throat pulsing. Peridot winced.

     She remembered Lapis telling her there was no such thing as a _seagull._ “There are hundreds of different species of gulls. They’re just hard to differentiate, so people don’t bother to learn. These guys are ring-billed,” she had added, tossing another piece of sandwich with something soft in her eyes.

_Romantic relationships and emotional connection have become so intertwined in human culture that fear of intimacy can result in –_

     Another seagull joined the first, flapping closer to Peridot and tilting its head sharply. Its round unblinking eye unsettled her, and she suddenly felt like crying. Teeth gritted, she lunged.

     “Get out of here, you clodding little –“

The screen door banged open as the seagulls took flight, squawking indignantly, and Peridot nearly stumbled over the railing. She righted herself, blushing and blinking back hot tears.

     “Hey Peridot! Oh, what’s the matter?” Steven asked, going from happy to worried when he noticed the expression on her face.

     “She’s out here mooning again,” Amethyst said, clasping her hands to her chest and batting her eyelashes. “’Oh, when will my love return from across the sea –‘“

   “ _Amethyst!_ Stop that. There is absolutely no reason to tease her,” Pearl scolded, looking so guilty that Peridot knew she had been thinking exactly the same thing.

     “Thanks for your contributions, everyone,” she said snippily. “Now, if you wouldn’t mind, I’d like to go back to my _mooning_ in peace.”

     Steven glanced doubtfully at Pearl, then offered a smile.

“We’re going to the beach and boardwalk for a little while! You should come with us,” he wheedled. Peridot softened.

     “Sorry, Steven. I actually have a paper that’s perilously close to being overdue.” She didn’t mention that the beach was the absolute last place she wanted to be at the moment.

     “Okie-dokie. We’ll bring you some ice cream, though,” he called over his shoulder as Pearl ushered him down the stairs, Amethyst hopping a step to catch up.

     “Later, Mope-idot,” she called with a grin, waving. Pearl turned to start another admonishment, but Amethyst held her hand and she abruptly closed her mouth, wearing a pleased little smile as they dropped out of sight below the porch.

     Peridot exhaled, letting her anger slowly drain away. She picked up her laptop and stared at the blank white screen before beginning again.

     _Romantic connections are an often overglorified result of societal pressures and fear of living without human connection long enough to –_

     The screen door creaked open again, and she barely suppressed a scream of frustration. She turned and saw Garnet in the doorway, her hands on her wide hips.

     She swallowed as Garnet walked over and sat in the chair next to hers, crossing her ankles expressionlessly. Her perpetual sunglasses reflected the sky in twin little pools of blue.

     “Hi, Garnet,” Peridot said. All her motivation to be angry had subsided, sucked away by the older woman’s unshakeable calm.

     “’Lo,” Garnet replied, watching the waves.

She didn’t offer any more than that in the next few minutes, and Peridot held her tongue until she felt ready to explode with expectation. She closed her laptop with a snap.

     “So, what is it?” she asked, “Come to offer sage love advice, how I should stop wasting my time pining over someone who rejected me and look somewhere else for my instant gratification?”

     Garnet turned her head, one eyebrow raised in what was perhaps the greatest show of emotion Peridot had ever witnessed from her.

     “I need a reason to sit with a friend on my front porch?” she returned, sounding slightly amused. Her sunglasses glinted. Peridot flushed and looked at her lap.

    There was a minute of quiet, the loudest noise the ocean on the sand. Then Garnet looked over. Peridot was surprised at the expectant look on her face.

     She opened her mouth to ask what in the stars Garnet wanted her to say, and then closed it again as the question answered itself. She looked back at her lap, studied her own interlocking fingers.

     “I… just miss her, I suppose,” she said awkwardly. “When you lo – live with someone, you get accustomed to it. A certain way of life. Patterns, expectations. You take it for granted.”

     Garnet nodded once.

“It doesn’t take an expert to see you miss her, Peridot,” she said.

     Peridot flushed darker, but the way Garnet said it wasn’t an intrusion.

“She –“ Peridot swallowed. “She doesn’t trust me anymore.”

     Garnet didn’t say anything, just looked ahead. A seagull was trying to land in the water directly where the waves were breaking, flying up at every lurch of the water to avoid being tossed under.

     Peridot spoke again, feeling the familiar frustration well up in her chest and spill out her mouth.

     “I don’t understand how it’s so impossible for her to see good intentions, Garnet. She assumes everyone is out to get her, and doesn’t let anyone get close. She pushed me away, even after she knew how much I care about her.”

     Garnet looked over at this.

“Yes. It’s frustrating when people you care about shut you out.” Her voice was gentle. “But sometimes we have to think about _why._ ”

     Peridot felt her ears heat up at the statement, then burn under Garnet’s calm scrutiny. She opened her mouth to deny her involvement, then let it close slowly.

     She knew exactly why Lapis had shut her out – she’d had every reason to.

“I… I miscalculated, Garnet. It was my fault,” she muttered. “At least partially. And now we’re both miserable and I haven’t spoken to her in over a month and I wish I could – just overcome it and move on with my life – or – make her see that I’m sorry,” she finished helplessly. She expected a pitying nod of agreement, or a sympathetic pat on the shoulder.

     “Make it happen.”

Peridot whipped around.

     “Wh – what?”

Garnet looked back at her, impassive behind her sunglasses.

     “Make it happen. Apologize. Don’t indulge in self-pity when all it does is make you miserable.” Garnet looked at Peridot’s gaping mouth, and she favored her with a rare and brilliant smile. “The hardest part is over, because you’ve already admitted to yourself that you did something wrong.”

     Peridot snapped her mouth shut after another moment of shock.

“So wait – you think I should pursue this? You don’t think I should try to get over it, or – or find someone else?” she asked incredulously, watching Garnet shake her head.

     “Nah. Not healthy. It’s imperative that you face something that’s bothering you this much, not bury it under distractions. Not fair to you, not fair to the someone else.” Garnet smiled slightly. “Besides, I think you’ve got something worth saving.”

     Peridot felt something light rise in her chest. She tried to ignore it, but it was too late. The idea was already there, the hope that contrasted with the past four weeks of directionless misery.

     “Well - what if she won’t talk to me?” she asked, trying to articulate fault in the plan other than _I’m afraid._

     Garnet shrugged.

“Then she won’t. But be honest. Be open. Show her how much you care and hope she does the same. That’s what love is,” she added simply.

     Peridot was speechless. For a moment she just sat, and thought. She pushed her glasses up in the silence.

     “I’ll do it,” she said decisively. “Tonight. I’ll go to the apartment and issue a formal apology and notify her that I realize I was wrong. Then, if she doesn’t – if she - “ She swallowed thickly. “At least I will have accomplished something.”

     Garnet was smiling again, and she gave a thumbs-up.

“Go get her,” was all she said.

     Peridot stood, her mind racing with marvelously undistracted thoughts. She would need to think – start formulating her apology, think of the best things to say and the most convincing argument she could make to have Lapis see that they needed each other.

     She wanted a walk on the beach.

She set off down the stairs, her heart fluttering in her throat. Two gulls sat on the railing, and they took flight when she passed them, twirling through the air together until they reached the sea.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hey guys,,,,
> 
> i'm really sorry i took forever to update this, i've been struggling with some depression myself and have been super busy with college prep and artwork and job training on top of that
> 
> hope you enjoyed, don't forget to drop a little comment for me <3
> 
> translations:
> 
> mama, i oe ala? - mama, are you awake?
> 
> i ka moana, ono - i'm fine, sweet 
> 
> mahalo - thank you
> 
> a’ole! au i huli! - no! i was looking!
> 
> maopopo i’au? - understand me?
> 
> ia ma ka lumi? - in the room?
> 
> aole loa - never/never again
> 
> ‘ike akula e komo mai la ho’i? - when she coming back here?
> 
> *chapter title: manaolana - hopeful


	8. uila me uila

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> tws:
> 
> \- ptsd // trauma flashbacks
> 
> \- panic attacks
> 
> \- descriptions of rape 
> 
> \- verbal, physical and psychological abuse

The inside of her head was screaming, a horrible cacophony of noise she never asked for and didn’t want. _End it, end it._ Lapis sat up, her eyes flying open, the sensation of slamming back into her body making her bones shudder. The room came blurrily back into focus. She tasted blood.

     Her brain felt like a few puzzle pieces being smashed back together the wrong way. A fractured, nonsensical picture, a few cookie-cutouts of empty sky struggling to be something whole on their own. She flew up off the couch without realizing why, her body telling her _move move move,_ failing to evade the coffee table and a resulting bright pain singing in her shin.

     Then it struck her, a brick to the face. It wasn’t her head screaming – it was Mala.

The air in the room was too thick, heavy. Her mouth tasted of acid and cold fear. No words came as she sprinted, just a shuddering exhale, a sour breath passing between lips that were painfully dry and cracked.

     Impressions in the ugly daylight of the room, a mother’s nightmare come to life as she wrenched open the door. Mala standing in her crib, arms outstretched, eyes red and puffy. Wet lashes clumped with tears. The room was stuffy and smelled of neglect, a damp and dirty diaper slung low. Heat rash showing angry and harsh on her baby’s skin.

     Her mouth open, voice hoarse, Mala reached.

“Mama,” she said, tearfully tired, and Lapis swept her up, trembling.

     _How long? How long was she in here by herself? While you were dead to the world on the fucking couch?_

    She held her daughter tightly to her, as if she could shield her from human mistakes. Cradled her little body, overwarm and alive. Two heartbeats, one unbroken but both hurting. Mala cried in tired relief, her little hand opening, closing, opening against Lapis’s upper arm. Lapis wished she could cry, but every part of her felt like a sponge wrung out.

   Lapis took her to the bathroom and changed her diaper carefully, wiped sweat off her tiny body, rubbed cream on her delicate skin. She kissed her baby, who stared up at her with a heartbreaking amount of trust in her eyes. Lapis trembled with disgust at herself, a confounding amount of flat fear and nothingness. She took Mala in to the couch, sat and rocked her and let her nurse. Eventually Mala slept, her exhaustion turning her panicked breaths to a soft rhythm that whispered over her tired throat. Her miniscule fingernails like cockle shells curled into Lapis’s shirtsleeve.

     Lapis’s head was a hurricane. Thoughts whirled horribly, caught in strong winds of indecision that whipped back and forth like a swelling ocean. Fear of abandonment. Theme parks often lifted baby dolphins and orcas from their mothers in the wild, isolating them in pitch black tanks of water, their screams drowned out by the helicopter’s whupping blades. Mala taken away from her, her beautiful curls cut off, her Hawaiian disappearing into a well of babyhood and her tongue forgetting the fluidity of the vowels. Inadequate care, neglectful abuse, failure to provide for a child. Her daughter in the foster system. _You wouldn’t believe some of the weirdos you meet in a foster home._ One parent. _Mama, where is Per-da?_ She didn’t know. Single mothers never seemed to make it. A nestful of broken eggshells, chalky blue as the place between the sky and the sea.

     She took a deep breath. Her arms tightened around Mala, and she pressed her forehead against her baby’s. Her skin was smooth and hot with a fever Lapis knew would pass.

     _Just remember – there are people who care about you._

Lapis thought of copper and apple and men’s cologne. Freckled constellations, a small hand in hers, gripping tightly, tightly. A kiss on the lips, a shooting star, that sky something closer to heaven than Lapis had ever come.

     Her eyes returned to Mala. Her flesh and blood, made from her body. Dark skin a flower petal, a morning glory, her little sea anemone precious and rare in a dying coral reef. She took another breath, feeling phantom water fill her lungs with liquid lead.

     “Help me,” she whispered to the empty room, to the light coming in through the window.

 

                                                                     *   *   *   *   *

 

Peridot sat cross-legged on the sand, wanting to brush away the grains that stuck to the tops of her feet but trying to focus instead on her apology. The surf pounded in her ears, one wave falling behind the other so they overlapped. Steady but out of rhythm, like two hearts together but off-beat.

     _I know she felt safer when I was around. I helped her watch Malachite. We cooked dinner together, and it was faster that way. I did the dishes._

     She closed her eyes, frustrated that she couldn’t describe how much _more_ it was. The way the apartment smelled, like baby powder and beach water and sometimes a surprising whiff of herself. How she never seemed to really breathe until she got through the front door, pushing out an exhale she didn’t even know she was holding, some knot of tension unwinding in her chest. The way the couch sagged in the middle so one person on each side always somehow ended up unresistingly centered, thighs pressed together, the two of them.

     But then, she had never been very good at finding the right words.

She let her head fall into her hands. It didn’t seem it now, with the late afternoon sun the color of melted butter, shadows rich as draped velvet on the sand, but the night was approaching fast. There were clouds on the horizon too, and the wind was picking up, stirring the water into something that shook the sand with restless power. Hard as she tried to concentrate on bringing some semblance of order to the disconnected thoughts in her head, Peridot couldn’t ignore the ugly urgency that fluttered in the back of her throat – the persistent feeling she was running out of time.

 

                                                                     *   *   *   *   *

 

The door was buzzing, startling Lapis out of the light sleep she had managed. Mala turned but didn’t wake. She looked out the window. The sky was dark now, long gray shadows stretched like cobwebs over the walls and furniture.

     She stood, shifting Mala slightly in her arms as they made their way to the door. Her ankle rolled, and she staggered slightly, barely keeping her balance as Mala’s weight made her lilt to the side.

     Her heart hummed in the hollow of her throat. She felt an odd flaming heat in her cheeks, tried not to admit who she was hoping to see on the other side.

     Lapis flipped the lock, took a deep breath. She pulled the door open.

For a split second, she saw a short figure standing there, hands jammed in pockets, mouth lifted apologetically to one side. Freckles apparent in the light from the hall. Then she blinked hard, twice.

     Garnet stood there, filling up the whole hallway. Lapis opened her mouth, confused, a breath dragging in over her throat.

     “Hello, Lapis,” she said, her accented voice low and soothing as a mutter of thunder on a cozy day.

     Lapis stood, trying to formulate a question even as Garnet’s steady presence answered it before it came into her mind.

 “Let me just sleep the baby,” she finally said, voice hoarse, realizing that was an odd thing to say only after it had left her mouth.

     Garnet nodded as if this interaction was entirely normal. She went into her bedroom and gently laid Mala on top of a clean blanket in her crib. Left the door as far open as it would stand. When she came back a minute later Garnet was still there, standing in the doorway.

   “Come… in?” Lapis said, and Garnet nodded, stepping into the room and politely waiting for Lapis to close the door behind her. She sat on the couch and crossed her legs, the solidity of her presence filling the apartment like warmth from a fire. Lapis crossed the room to flick on the lamp, then sat next to Garnet on the couch.

     There was a moment of strained silence, Garnet just observing Lapis steadily from behind her perpetual sunglasses. The longer it went on, the harder Lapis found it to meet her eyes.

     “I know why you’re here,” she muttered. _Garnet, it’s impossible. She absolutely refuses to see reason. Will you talk to her for me?_ She stopped, her mouth opening fruitlessly. She rubbed her wrist with her other thumb, feeling the vulnerability of the soft skin. “I don’t want to talk about this,” she finished finally, the words catching in her sore throat. A cup of sweet tea, a darkened hallway, Peridot’s glasses playing with the ambiguous moonlight as it glinted through the window. But now the room was warm and bright, the yellow of the lamp steady and uncompromising.

     “That’s fine,” Garnet said quietly, and Lapis looked up, surprised. Her face was neutral as always, dark stone, but the set of her mouth was gentle. “Peridot didn’t send me. I came to speak to _you,_ if you’re willing to listen.”

     Lapis nodded slowly, believing her for some reason she didn’t know. Garnet sighed, looking down at her hands. She brushed a thumb over each palm, and Lapis noticed for the first time the two symmetrical birthmarks that adorned them like jewels.

     “I’m sure you know the nature of my relationship with Pearl and Amethyst,” she began. Lapis blinked, then nodded. Garnet continued steadily, her voice soft and close to monotonous. “We were not always together. It all started with Rose and the protests. She brought us together, united us under the common goal of free love. We were the closest group of friends I’ve ever seen. There were times when Rose swore we could read each other’s minds.” A tiny smile touched her lips, then evaporated. “But there were problems. Because we felt so close to each other, nobody felt the need to communicate specifics. Pearl was in love with Rose, Amethyst was in love with Pearl, Rose did nothing to dissuade either of them, and nobody said anything about it. I was barely an adult, still a teenager really, and I was confused about myself even in the middle of all the acceptance and pride.” Garnet stopped. Lapis struggled to make herself stop feeling tired, to roust the ache from her head.

     “When Greg came in years later, we started to fall apart. Rose never had the heart to tell Pearl no, and they continued with whatever it was they had up until Rose and Greg married. Amethyst was very close with Greg and started to resent Pearl for trying to break him and Rose apart. They couldn’t go a day without bickering about every irrelevant thing. They chose to fight instead of addressing the problem at hand, and drifted so far apart they lost the option. The love between them was completely lost. Then, when Rose died…” Garnet trailed off, then stated the next part with such conviction a little shiver broke out over Lapis’s arms.

     “We thought Pearl would die with her. She spent nearly ten years in mourning. We broke apart, the three of us, and left Greg to raise Steven on his own.” She was quiet for a moment. “I regret that decision perhaps more than anything else. But I was determined to do better. I put myself through school to become a psychiatrist and a relationship therapist, so that I wouldn’t lose any more people I loved. But in spite of that, it was really Steven who brought us together again. He is so much like Rose – his capacity to care for others is endless.” Garnet smiled, widely this time, lighting up the room. “So we talked. We communicated with each other, and to make a long story marginally shorter, I am now in love with two wonderful partners. And myself.”

     Garnet’s fingers linked together loosely in her lap. She went back to silently observing Lapis, waiting for her to say something.

     Something was filtering through the gray, a feeling that burned bright red. Lapis felt her cheeks heating up, the back of her throat scorching, and realized it was fury.

     “So,” she said, swallowing the anger and making her voice deadpan, “I get it. The moral of the story is I should drop my values and my pride, go talk to Peridot, and then we make up and go skipping off to the end of your idealistic lesbian rainbow?”

     The smile had dropped from Garnet’s face. She started to shake her head, but Lapis went on.

     “Yeah. Thanks for that advice. Here’s some news for you – my life doesn’t work like that. I’ve tried again and again and every time I think I love someone and we’re communicating I get used and dropped like a piece of trash. I’m done with it, Garnet.” Her cheeks flaming, Lapis stopped. Her chin trembled, and she bit the inside of her mouth fiercely.

     Garnet nodded.

“And that’s good, Lapis. You’ve identified the problem and are determined to avoid further abuse. But closing yourself off from every possible relationship is not the right strategy.”

     Lapis scowled at how gentle her voice was.

“Funny, I thought ending abusive relationships and refusing to enter them again was a pretty good strategy,” she said.

     Garnet’s face remained completely impassive, which made Lapis feel like a spoiled child throwing a tantrum. She grit her teeth.

     “Lapis. This may not be my place, but you need help.” Lapis inhaled sharply, ready to deny it, but Garnet went on calmly, “Now, whether you decide that you will be helped more by a romantic relationship or by turning to friends and family is completely your decision. But you need to decide quickly.

     “I understand that you’re frustrated, and in this situation there’s no way or reason for me to tell you what specific behaviors merit the label of abuse. But I’ve talked to Peridot, Lapis, and I think this is a misunderstanding. I genuinely believe she’s sorry,” Garnet hesitated for a fraction of a second, “and she is badly hurt.”

     Lapis ignored the feeling that knifed through her.

“I…” she swallowed around the lie, trying to make herself believe it, but there was no conviction in her voice. “I don’t care. I’m done caring how people who hurt me feel.”

     Garnet maintained a neutral silence, staring straight ahead. Lapis looked over, wrestling the nest of new feelings that was tearing at her insides.

     “…Garnet?” Lapis began and didn’t finish, letting the question hang in the air.

“She’s nearly ready to move on,” Garnet stated, and Lapis felt a wallop of something in her chest. “Not quite yet, but soon. If you want to give her a second chance… don’t wait much longer.”

     Lapis stood too abruptly, feeling weak in the knees. Her vision clouded over for a moment, billions of tiny dots converging like fireflies in front of her pupils before slowly dissipating.

     “I – I need to take a walk,” she heard herself say, far off on some distant beach, and she took a strange lurching step towards the door.

     Garnet rose halfway off the couch, her eyebrows wrinkled in concern, and Lapis shook her head. A mess of indecision.

     “I’m fine. Can you –“ she swallowed, “stay here with Mala? I’ll be back in – in fifteen minutes.”

     Garnet nodded slowly, sinking back onto the couch with a watchful eye on the hallway. Lapis turned towards the door.

     “Lapis,” Garnet said, and she turned back again. “You should think equally about what you want, what you need, and where they intersect.”

   Lapis stared for a second, then nodded once, twice. She stumbled to the door and left, letting it clang shut behind her.

   Outside the wind wailed eerily between buildings and down streets, bending and hustling and whispering trees with the sound. Clouds reared up overhead with the fury of an unborn thunderstorm. Torn layers of them scudded quickly across the forefront of the sky, never obscuring the real storm for long. Lapis squinted up as thoughts seemed to whirl through her whole body. _there’s a storm coming. if you want to give her a second chance. if you’re willing. she’s nearly ready to move on. what you want, what you need. what you want what you need. are you ready to move on are you ready for the storm? mama where’s per-da? where is peridot? where is peridot?_

     Lapis didn’t realize she was headed for the beach until her feet hit the sand. It was cold, slightly damp, the rough graininess feeling realer than anything had in weeks. The waves were eight or ten feet tall, rearing up with a scream of protest against the wind, whitecapping and then roaring down to pummel the beach as if it had done the ocean some personal wrong. The light had an odd yellowish cast, as if someone had broken an oil lamp behind the clouds.

     She turned and started walking towards the surf shacks, which were barely visible, huddled like a cluster of penguins in a blizzard. She could see the old dock, the wooden posts steady, the surf bucking under it like something alive. The wind tore mist off the sea.

     _give her a second chance. i’m - sorry. no that’s not what i. i wanted to. do you love me? do you love her? do you_

Lapis realized her name was being called from further down the beach, and her head went up. She turned blindly to the wind, screamed Peridot’s name, a question. And she got an answer. Her eyes widened.

     Her blood was icewater, numb and sluggish. She bit the inside of her lip so hard she couldn’t feel it, only tasted pennies. She forced herself not to fall on her knees.

     “Lapis! Don’t run,” her voice said, but Lapis couldn’t have run if she tried.

Jasper arrived in front of her, a beautiful nightmare come to life, her hair blowing in all directions in a mass of white lines. Like lightning. Lapis’s heart was doing doubletime, tripletime, pounding in her neck, and she pinched the inside of her elbow to keep herself from falling. _breathe, Lapis. that’s gonna bruise later._

     “Wow,” Jasper said, her eyes traveling up and down, “you look like shit, Lapis.”

She found her tongue.

     “Fuck you too,” she said hoarsely, barely squeezing the words out.

Jasper threw her head back and laughed, her teeth glinting like pearlstone knives in the half-light. Lapis’s skin prickled at the sound. She swallowed.

     “Is that any way to speak to an old friend?” she asked, sounding amused.

“Friends. So that’s what we’re calling it now?” Lapis said before she could stop herself. Jasper moved forward, and

     _akua a’ole mai hoopa mai ia’u_

her hand was in Lapis’s hair, thick fingers toying behind her ear with a terrible gentleness.

     “You’re right, actually. Stupid thing to say. We were so much more than _friends_. And to be honest, Lapis, I miss it.” Jasper leaned in closer, put her mouth near Lapis’s face. “I came here to talk to you, and look how quickly you caught on. I want to be together again, Lapis.” Jasper’s breath on her neck was hot with feelings, the memory of pain ripping her body apart as her mind rocked in a quiet corner of her head.

     Lapis pulled away, shaking. Every part of her body was trembling, and she swore she could smell something in the air, acrid ozone crackling in sparks between them. Somehow she pushed words out over her numb throat, tasting bile thick on her tongue.

    “Why the fuck should I?” she asked, and Jasper’s dark eyes glinted. “After all the shit you put me through. Why would I want to go to hell again?”

     “Because it wouldn’t _be_ hell this time,” Jasper said. Lapis’s heart was skipping beats, one throb coupled with a few little pitter-patters. _Bum – bumbumbum._ “I know what we had wasn’t perfect. I fucked up, Lapis. But I’ve been going to therapy, for my temper and trauma and all that shit. I promise I’ll treat you better.”

     “I don’t believe you,” Lapis stated, but her voice was shaking. She stepped back, soothed by the sand on the soles of her feet.

     “Well, that’s your problem then,” Jasper growled, then gathered herself and spoke quietly. “Look. I know that I can’t excuse what we did – what _I_ did – in the past. But that’s all behind us, right?” She looked hopeful, and Lapis was choking on her own thoughts, didn’t say _no. It’s not behind us. Do you have any idea what you’ve done to me?_

     She could only open her mouth, dragging in a breath that tasted of salt and bitter kelp. Jasper’s face changed, relaxed as the question went out of it, a triumphant smile curling her lips.

     “Why now?” Lapis asked weakly, cursing herself for being so spineless. “Why after all this time are you crawling back to me now?”

     Jasper shook her head slowly, her hair whipping back and forth.

“I’m not crawling back, Lapis. I’m doing you a fucking favor. I’m offering you the best chance you have to be happy again.”

     _asleep in the sun, the beach in her hair, absolutely golden. serenity, domestic calm, her daughter held by another person laughing and smiling to show her tiny pearls_

Lapis opened her mouth but couldn’t catch her breath. Her chest felt hollow, cavernous.

“You’re wrong,” she said, speaking into the wind. “I have so much more than you.”

Jasper laughed cruelly, a single short bark.

     “Like what?” she sneered. “Peridot Olivine? Our favorite legless wonder, four-feet-zero inches of righteous annoyance and holier-than-thou shitheaded attitude?”

     _she was gone, disappearing into the night. a long scratch on the floor. keys that nobody had any use for, now, cold and heartless metal in the palm of her hand. all that was left, and she had to look at it on her nightstand._

Lapis squeezed her hands together as Jasper continued, her voice sharp with contempt.

     “Peridot’s a naïf, Lapis. She can’t handle you. I’m the only one who can.”

Something in her snarled at the statement – the idea she had to be _handled,_ like she was a wild animal who deserved a sharp slap on the flanks more than understanding or communication. Lapis shook her head, but before she could say anything, Jasper was talking again.

     “Look. You and I both know that you’re dangerous. The way you treat people isn’t normal, Lapis, and neither of us can pretend like it is. That’s why you need me, because I’m the one who loves you.”

     The words entered Lapis like darts, stabbing into her chest. Those words coming from Jasper were wrong, horribly wrong, sickly poison flowers curling up from a bed of jeweled weeds.

     _she’s right you know she’s right she is the only one who loves you because you treat people like shit and they run they can’t help it_

Except Peridot. She hadn’t run.

_remember there are people who care about you_

     Lapis scraped an inhale as Jasper grabbed her wrist, her palm warm and rough and huge. Handcuffs, locking into place. Lapis jerked her arm, feeling panic bubble up through her throat and out her mouth.

     “Don’t touch me,” she said, her voice dead.

“There’s my water witch,” Jasper said, something threatening in her eyes as she offered a smile, an empty half-moon floating on the bottom of her face. “You know, I missed you. And I’m sure you missed me.” Her hand crept up Lapis’s arm, and she was suffocating

     _did you miss me?_

_a whisper in her ear, she was home from work, and then Jasper was crawling on top of her, a mountain of strength and hunger that she couldn’t fight off. so she buried her hands in that mane of hair and closed her eyes, let the tide carry her away as her body was rocked by waves of unfeeling_

in the contact,

_it would hurt afterwards, of course, but right then it was best to get it over with_

her throat tight, her lungs filling. She shook her head, weakly at first, then with a little strength as she remembered the feeling of Peridot’s hand. Fingers interlaced with hers, as gentle as if they were holding something breakable.

     “I said. Don’t. Touch. Me,” Lapis hissed, jerking her arm down out of Jasper’s grip and stepping back. Jasper blinked twice, shocked, her face starting to set into a frown. Lightning flashed in the clouds over her left shoulder, but the wind was too loud for Lapis to hear the thunder.

     “What’s with you?” Jasper asked, and the floating smile was gone. “You’re making a mistake, Lapis. Because I told you, I’m the only one who’s gonna put up with this shit. I’m still here, aren’t I?” She spread her arms, palms up, supplicating. “So come home with me. C’mon.” Something almost tender entered her voice. “You know I always wanted us to have a family.”

    Lapis shuddered at the thought of her baby, her own baby, in the same room as Jasper. Going through the same things Lapis had, being screamed at, curling up, retreating into herself, her bright bubbles of precious expression popped and swatted aside. Or worse – her gentleness murdered, becoming like Jasper, angry, thoughtful to the point of obsession, hurling and heaving and devastating lives with the collateral damage of a typhoon.

     “Akua. Use your _head_ for a minute, Jasper, and think. Did you ever really think I would let you near my daughter?” Her words came out harsh and dry, cracking like a whip. Jasper’s eyes narrowed, and Lapis recognized danger in the set of her mouth.

     “I think you mean _our_ daughter,” she growled. “How fucking selfish are you? Goddamn. Did you ever stop and think how I felt? You just fly off with our baby, to get a fucking abortion for all I know, and then wash up three months later with no money and the idea you could make it on your own?” She sneered. “And look where _that_ got you. A shitty apartment, a shittier relationship, and from the way it looks, no goddamn clue how to take care of yourself.”

     Lapis swallowed hard, ripped out the lump in her throat. She felt the first spat of rain expelled from the sky.

     “I know how to take care of myself and I know how to take care of _my_ daughter. Trust me when I say that as long as I’m alive, I will _never_ let you near her. So don’t even bother.” Lapis felt her face curling into a snarl. _never turn your back on an attack dog they can smell fear she can smell fear so learn to bite back._ “So the answer is no, Jasper. I’m not doing this again. I’m going home.”

     Her back straight, Lapis looked at Jasper’s bent head, hands relaxed and slung low at her sides. Trying not to betray her sweaty palms and hammering heart

     _don’t let her smell your fear don’t let her smell your_

she turned slowly, firmly, and started up to the boardwalk.

     “What about Peridot?” she heard, and fear vibrated through her with the purity of a note from a crystal bell.

     “What are you talking about?” she asked, half turning. Jasper’s head was still low, she could see it in the corner of her eye, but it was rising as slowly as a monster from under the ocean. Lapis felt a crazy, unspeakable terror at the sight.

     “What about your little girlfriend?” Jasper repeated, her voice low and almost gleeful. “Will you let me near _her?_ She doesn’t live with you anymore. What would happen if she were to have some kind of… accident? What would you be able to do?”

     Lapis stopped walking, even though her brain was screaming for her to keep going, run, find Peridot and warn her away from this insanity.

     “You wouldn’t dare,” she said, and her voice shook. _Because this doesn’t fucking happen in real life. This isn’t happening. This is some passage from a bad crime novel where the mafia makes threats but gets caught by the good guys in the end._

Jasper laughed, but the sound was dangerously close to a scream.

“Watch me, Lapis,” she growled. “I knew you cared about that little fuck. But you’re wrong. And if I need to take away the distractions to make you see you should care about _me_ ,” Jasper was coming towards her, head still lowered like a charging bull, “I will.”

     _Oh oh akua holo holo fucking run –_

The hand was swiping out towards Lapis’s arm, lightning flashing over her shoulder, and she somehow dodged, watching the spray of sand fan out from under her heel as she turned, sprinting with all her strength. She didn’t look back, but she could feel Jasper’s hot breath on the back of her neck, hear the footfalls on the sand as heavy as the pound and hiss of the waves to their right. She sped up in a surge of terror, her lungs screaming for air in spite of how much she ripped in with each frantic breath

     _run, run, thank god the wind’s behind you just keep going try to get to the dock get to the dock if you can –_

     and absurdly, from behind her, she heard _“Come back here, god damn it!”,_ Jasper’s voice full of irrational faith that Lapis would, for some reason, obey.

     Lapis shot past the surf shacks, weaving between two of the little buildings, and kept going. She saw the dock up ahead and poured the last of her energy into her legs, ignoring the shriek of pain her tired muscles gave in protest. She made a sharp turn to the right, feeling a dull impact as her numb feet thudded against the old brown wood. She turned around, nearly slipped in a puddle and slowed, her back to the ocean, her chest heaving, feeling spray from the wild water splatter like cold blood on her skin.

     Jasper nearly ran past the dock, stopped, and then stalked forward onto it, her eyes flashing with rage. Lapis swallowed, tasting salt on her tongue, the scream of the wind high and familiar as a gull’s call in her ears. A wave crashed into the dock next to her, and she felt a rush as six inches of water pulled over her feet.

     “Nowhere you can run now, Lapis,” Jasper yelled to be heard over the wind, still forty feet down the dock, her eyes squinted against her hair that whipped across her face like a nest of snakes. “You could’ve planned this better.”

     _that’s just what you think Jasper why don’t you wait to make your judgements? you were never very patient._

     Still breathing too hard to speak, she flipped Jasper off, standing her ground even as panic started to squeeze its coils around her neck.

     “Yeah, very mature,” Jasper yelled again, glaring, twenty, fifteen feet away. “Are you gonna keep acting like some suburban teen trying to rebel against her parents, or are you gonna come here and talk to me like a rational fucking adult?”

     Lapis took a breath. Ten feet. Seven.

“A’ole. If you want me, come _get_ me, you _fuck!”_

     Her voice rose into a scream that she couldn’t tell from Jasper’s roar of rage. Tasting hot blood in her throat, Lapis turned and ran for the last time.

     Her vision was clear and sharp as glass. She saw the ocean, an endless black expanse that met the sky and obliterated the idea of a horizon, making the dock look like a pile of matchsticks. The end of the dock was fast approaching. Five feet. Two feet. She lifted her legs, faking a jump, vertigo spinning in her stomach

     _exactly right now be careful you have to make this perfect_

and then she jammed her feet down and to the side, bending her legs, ducking away, feeling splinters drive into her heels and watching Jasper charge like a runaway train to the end, going so fast it was too late to stop, an almost comical expression of horror in her bulging eyes.

     But she hadn’t done well enough. Jasper twisted like a snake and a hand closed around her wrist, a horrible yank of momentum sending a shock of pain through her arm. Her shoulder screaming, Lapis was pulled into the air, off the dock, the ocean heaving like a living thing below them.

     She had time for a brief, calm thought

_kokoke wau e make_

     before they hit the sea. Then Lapis felt the icy shock of the water, enough power underneath to shatter her body, and everything went black.

 

                                                                        *   *   *   *   *

 

The car pulled up on Sunset Boulevard, and Peridot almost broke her seat belt buckle in her hurry to get out of the backseat. Rain bounced off the windows, the tall trees that lined the street were bent over like worshippers to some deity, and she was barely able to open the door with the force of the wind on the other side.

     _“_ Hey. _Hey!”_ the Uber driver exclaimed as the wind slammed the door shut for her, rolling his window down. “You planning on paying me for driving you around in a goddamn monsoon?”

     Peridot dug a twenty out of her pocket and threw it into the passenger seat.

“Of course. Keep the change, it’s irrelevant,” she said wildly, and turned to the front steps of 26. She didn’t know why she felt the horrible urgency that coiled and snapped in her chest like a dragon, but it had only intensified since the afternoon. It mixed with the intense nervousness she felt, the looming possibility that Lapis was going to kick her out and demand she never come back, and made her stomach spin and churn. And as much as she told herself she was being ridiculous, an alarm clock was shrilling in her head, over and over, alerting her that time was precious and she seemed to have run out of it.

     She got up the few steps as the car peeled away, ignoring the pain stabbing through her knee. She raised her hand to bang on the door, but as she brought her fist down it was pulled open from the inside. Peridot’s jaw dropped in confusion.

     “Garnet?” she asked incredulously as the tall woman whipped out her phone, pressing twice on the screen and then raising it to her ear. “Wh – is Lapis upstairs?”

     Garnet spoke into the phone, quickly and with something in her voice that made Peridot’s chest lurch.

     “Yes. Come to Sunset Boulevard and meet me on the boardwalk. Bring Amethyst. I need to search the beach.”

     “ _Garnet!”_ Peridot screeched as she hung up and shoved the device back in her pocket. “Can you please tell me what the hell is happening?”

     Garnet looked at her for a moment, impenetrable behind her sunglasses.

“I might be wrong,” she said, “but I think you should come to the beach with me.”

     She turned, without another word, and sprinted down the street.

Peridot stared after her, mouth open, and she felt something icy close around her heart as sirens started to wail in the street.

     She looked up at the windows and at the trees whipping and creaking, a drop of rain landing with a _splt_ on the lens of her glasses. Lapis’s blue flowers had been flayed by the wind, their petals ripped away, leaves roughly flipped up to expose their delicate undersides. She looked back down the street, where Garnet was already nearly at the boardwalk.

     _She’s in trouble, and some biology-forsaken part of you that’s not logical in the least knows it._

     Peridot turned, exhaling a shuddering breath out of her nose, and ran.

 

                                                                     *   *   *   *   *

 

Lapis was being forced down, down, down. Raw panic had won, was making her kick out, flailing pointlessly in every direction. She felt her head spin as she began to run out of oxygen, the currents thrashing her back and forth like a piece of driftwood. Jasper’s hand was still tight around her wrist, twisting, pinching the skin and dragging her down.

     _mai maka’u, Lapis_

_stop it stop wasting your energy let go of things that are weighing you down kick off your shoes take off heavy clothes don’t fight the water use your energy to get to the surface and most importantly do not panic_

She opened her eyes.

The bottom of the ocean was an abyss below, a green-tinted, blurry darkness that she could see Jasper’s arm rising out of, Jasper’s thick hair floating in a pale mass like something dead. Lapis turned around, her body pounding for air, and kicked Jasper’s fingers with all her might. They opened in shock, some bubbles floating up from that undulating cloud of hair, and Lapis quickly swam to reach the surface, a frog stroke, using her legs and her arms in sync.

     She could feel herself weakening, her chest imploding, and she swallowed fruitlessly with no air in her throat. The surface was still too far above, a gray-green light filtering down that she tried to focus on. She could see a wave, a mountain of water rolling over

     _you need to get to the surface take a breath see which direction the shore is even if you go under again you need to find the shore_

and passing. She felt like she had a fifty pound weight tied to each leg. A high-pitched whining had started in each ear, and she knew her brain was dying, screaming without oxygen as her vision got black around the edges.

     Her head broke the surface, and Lapis gasped and choked, inhaling salt and rain with the precious air. The wind screamed in her ears, and she paddled in a clumsy circle, for a frantic moment unable to find the shoreline.

     Then she was rising ten, twenty, thirty feet straight up, and she knew she would be pummeled when the wave that was carrying her broke. She used the height to gain perspective and at last saw the beach, a dark stripe half a mile away. Probably a rip current had pulled them out. She heard thunder, a familiar rush of water above her

     _laughter, high childish voices, a bright sunny day, the ocean the color of paradise_

_nānā iā ia!_

_lapis, kiai ia, you’re gonna_

_ooh, she wiped out -_

     and as she felt the wave arching and breaking over her head, she took a huge breath, filled her lungs, and kicked towards the beach.

     The force of the wave pummeled her down, driving her thirty feet deep, but Lapis didn’t panic. She had enough air, and she got back up to the surface before the next wave, managing to clamber over this one before it broke. Her legs screamed with exhaustion and her body felt like lead, but she had managed to keep herself pointed towards the shore.

     She thought she heard Jasper yell when she came up next, and a cold burst of horror prickled over her entire body

     _don’t turn around just keep going get to the beach you know she’s behind you does it really matter whether you turn around and look_

as she dove before the next wave could break. It rolled harmlessly over her, the force of it like an enormous hand on her back, pushing her only ten feet down.

     She fell into a rhythm, diving under when a wave broke, waiting for it to pass, then at the surface using a strong breaststroke to cover as much distance as possible. Her mind was gone, her body taking over for the humming gray void on her shoulders. She was so close to the shore, only fifty feet away, when she heard a splash and felt a hand close on her ankle.

     She swallowed the sea in her surprise, coughing and sputtering as she went under briefly, her legs fluttering to try and keep her afloat. She kicked out instinctively and her foot struck Jasper’s face. She broke the surface again, swimming desperately away, and she was almost to the shore. She felt her feet brush sand next time she went under, saw a few figures on the beach through the driving rain

     _what are those lolos doing on the beach in this storm_

and struggled to make it to them. She nearly screamed in frustration and fear as Jasper grabbed her shoulder, her eyes glittering with malice through her soaked mane of hair.

     “Lapis,” she choked, and then the wave broke on top of them.

Lapis was airless again, and felt raw pain as the wave scraped her along the bottom, skinning her against the sand. She saw a foam of white above her, rushing water, and then Jasper was tumbling, crushing her as the wave threw them together. She couldn’t get up, she was drowning five feet from the goddamn shore, and her mouth was full of sand and her vision was whiting out.

     Her head broke the surface and she crawled, letting the retreating power of the wave separate them and pull Jasper back in. She stumbled to her feet and ran, achingly, desperately exhausted through the knee-deep churning water, racing the next wave. It broke behind her, and she started to cry as her feet hit sand at last. Someone was rushing forward to meet her, and she thought vaguely that it was Garnet as she collapsed flat on her stomach, one arm still reaching forward towards the shore.

     She heard her name from far away, felt the world spin around, and then a sudden blunt pain pounding on her chest made her sit up, hinging automatically at the hips.

     “Lapis! Breathe!”

She started to cough and then couldn’t stop, hacking up a spout of warm seawater and tasting blood mingling with the salt. She looked up and saw Amethyst and Pearl, each with one of Jasper’s arms, dragging her carefully out of the water.

     She tried to open her mouth to warn them or cry out, but she couldn’t do anything but cough with renewed vigor.

    “C’mere, sis,” Lapis heard Amethyst say gently, then she was knocked flat on her back by Jasper’s fist to her face. Pearl gasped. Lapis winced as Garnet stood and darted down to the water faster than her eye could follow. Pearl ducked under Jasper’s swinging fist as Amethyst staggered to her feet and lunged, dark blood streaming from her nose.

     Lapis closed her eyes, hugging her legs to her chest, distant shouts and waves and thunder all blurring together. She rested her forehead on her knees, not feeling herself shiver uncontrollably, not feeling fear or adrenaline, not feeling relief. Not feeling anything.

 

                                                                     *   *   *   *   *

 

Peridot arrived at the beach, huffing with her knee on fire, hearing sirens whoop painfully in her ear. Her mouth fell open at what she saw.

     Garnet was twisting Jasper’s arms behind her back in a practiced hold, three feet deep in the surf, subduing her with a knee pressed strongly into the small of her back. Jasper was soaking wet, a mess, and looked like she had just crawled out of the ocean. Pearl was fluttering around Amethyst, who seemed to be waving her off and pinching her own nose.

     _Oh my stars, is that blood?_

Police swarmed the beach, half a dozen officers at least, a cluster of cars parked on the edge of the boardwalk. The wail of the sirens was barely audible over the wind and the rain and roaring sea. As she watched an ambulance arrived among the patrol cars, conspicuous as a sheep in a pack of wolves. Red and blue lights flashed eerily over the whole scene. Peridot’s heart hammered in her throat, and then skipped when she saw the huddled figure in a dark pile on the sand.

     She was running again before she knew what she was doing, staggering with the pain in her knee as she slid on the sand. She slowed down, dropping to her knees, her trembling hands held level with her chest in uncertainty.

     “Oh, _Lapis_ ,” she whispered, and the crumpled figure stirred.

Peridot felt a sting in her eyes, her heart lurching as Lapis turned her head. She was painfully skinny, her ribs showing in her chest, her cheekbones hollow and hungry. Her hair was wet and hung in her eyes, darkened to black by the water, like lines scrawled across a drawing someone didn’t like enough to keep. Her eyes were only half-there, her pupils huge and unfocused, the bags under her eyes so dark they looked like bruises.

     “Peridot,” she muttered.

Peridot breathed, feeling a pain in her chest that made her knee fade into irrelevance. She touched Lapis’s shoulder cautiously, softly, scared by how cold her skin was. She opened her arms when Lapis slid into them, falling sideways and relaxing into Peridot’s lap, her head wet on Peridot’s shoulder.

     “I’m so sorry. I…” Peridot tried to speak, but there was a strange blockage in her throat, rendering speech impossible. She took off her sweatshirt, one arm at a time, and wrapped it around Lapis’s shoulders, trying to restore some warmth. Her hands were suspiciously unsteady, shaking so hard she found it difficult to accomplish even that simple task.

     Someone tapped her on the shoulder and she jumped, startled. A woman in blue hospital scrubs stood there, scowling.

     “’Scuse me, but you’re gonna have to let go of her now,” she said. Peridot’s arms tightened around Lapis, who didn’t stir.

     “No,” she said without thinking, her voice high with panic. “You can’t. She – she doesn’t like loud noises. She’s going to be extremely overwhelmed.”

    Another paramedic came up behind the first, a blanket slung over her arm. She smiled apologetically.

     “She’s in shock, ma’am. According to the call we received she nearly drowned, which means there’s a good chance her core temperature is lower than it should be and she is in danger of potential hypothermia. If we factor in water in the lungs, we can add pneumonia to that. So please step aside.”

     Peridot opened her mouth, shaking her head wordlessly. She let Lapis into the strong arms of the first paramedic, who nodded curtly and started to transfer her to a stretcher.

     Lapis coughed, and Peridot followed behind as her stretcher was loaded into the back of the ambulance, pulled up by a third person inside. She tried to climb up after them, but the first paramedic stopped her. She scowled.

     “I’m coming _with_ you!”

“No you’re not,” the paramedic said coolly. “This vehicle has room for a fully extended stretcher, three paramedics, our equipment, and the driver. Do you really want to compromise _lives_ by not being able to wait until we get a barely conscious patient to the hospital?”

     Peridot grit her teeth against the sting of tears in her eyes.

“Listen to me, you pompous, self-important little _clod – “_

     “Peridot,” she heard from inside the ambulance.

She scrambled in before anyone could stop her, her shoes scraping on the metal floor. She went to grab Lapis’s hand but thought the better of it and grabbed the blanket instead. It was rough against her fingers.

     Lapis was looking at her, exhausted, but she still felt a palpitation in her heart when their eyes met, a little flutter she couldn’t subdue. She swallowed.

     “Stay here with Mala,” Lapis whispered, “please. She must be scared to death. I – I left her.”

     Peridot nodded quickly, then she felt a hand on her shoulder. The second paramedic tilted her head towards the first, who was fuming, her face red and tight. She was pushed gently to the back of the ambulance and ushered out.

     “I’ll take care of her, Lapis!” she called, and something in her flipped, worrying, worrying. “Don’t worry, I’ll – “

     The first paramedic slammed the door in her face, and the ambulance pulled away, sirens wailing.

     She bit her lip against the sting of tears, slamming her fist into her leg.

 _“Damn_ it,” she whispered.

     “Get the _fuck_ off of me if you know what’s good for you, you bitch!”

Peridot startled at the shout, her skin prickling at the voice, choked and low with malice.

     She turned around.

Jasper was being pushed by Garnet towards a police car, her hands cuffed behind her back. Garnet’s face was stony, her mouth twisted in distaste.

     Jasper caught sight of Peridot and her mouth opened soundlessly. One of her eyes was blackened, barely open, the skin around it swollen and puffy. Her dreadlocks hung in sopping ropes around her face. Blood dripped, unpleasantly dark, from a cut on her mouth.

     _“YOU!”_ she roared. Peridot took an involuntary step back. “You little _fuck!_ You’re the reason I had to do this! All of this is _your goddamn fault!”_

     Garnet jerked Jasper’s hands, the chain between the cuffs rattling.

“You have the _right_ to remain _silent_ ,” she said through gritted teeth, and Peridot stepped forward.

     “I don’t see how you can rationalize that, Jasper,” she said coldly, “when you are the only one responsible for your actions.”

     Jasper laughed, her split lip slick with blood.

“Sure, Peridot. You keep that notion in your little head. You know, Lapis told me what she _really_ thinks of you. She said she never wants you near her again, that you ruined her life for the second time. So have fun trying to repair _that_ relationship, you pretentious little dwarf.”

     Garnet shoved her into the back of the car, locking it with a _click_ of finality. She turned to Peridot, shaking her head.

     “Don’t listen to her,” she said calmly. “After all, you’re not the one under arrest for governmentally associated thievery, possession of illegal substances, or sexual assault.”

     Peridot swallowed hard, swiping the back of her hand across her eyes angrily.

“I never want to see her again,” she muttered. Garnet’s hand fell on her shoulder.

     “With any luck, neither you nor Lapis will have to,” she said. “Now, if you want to go back to Malachite, I left her in the apartment with Lapis’s neighbors. She’s probably quite confused.”

     Peridot nodded. Her head was pounding. She wanted an aspirin.

“Thanks, Garnet,” she said. “For everything.”

     Garnet nodded seriously.

“Remember, I have faith in you, but it’s more important that you have faith in yourself and this relationship. Communication is everything. Love is everything. Don’t be afraid to be vulnerable, Peridot.” She paused, her hand patting Peridot’s shoulder once, warm and reassuring. “Good luck.”

     She nodded slowly, watching as Garnet got into an unmarked car, holding the door for Amethyst and Pearl. Amethyst waved to Peridot.

     “Where are you going?” she called.

“We’re pickig up Steven ad goig to the hospital,” Amethyst replied, her nose clogged with blood. “Gonna see if we can do anythig for Lapis.”

     They drove off, and Peridot felt disappointment deflating her stomach.

_She doesn’t want me there._

     She stood in the rain, cold drops trembling down the back of her neck, and stared for a second longer at the empty beach. The storm was already erasing the evidence of the fight, the wind smoothing over scuff marks in the sand, the water pummeling the blood away.

     She turned and started the walk back to the apartment. She had a lot to think about.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hey guys
> 
> i'm really really sorry this chapter has been such a titanic wait, i went to the mountains and didn't have access to the internet for a few weeks, plus i had to finish up with my job, get ready for my first college semester to start (!!!) etc.
> 
> thank you guys for being patient while life caught up with me <3
> 
> translations:
> 
> akua - god
> 
> akua a’ole mai hoopa mai ia’u - god no don't let her touch me
> 
> mai maka’u - don't panic
> 
> oh oh akua holo holo - oh my god run, run
> 
> a'ole - no
> 
> kokoke wau e make - i'm going to die
> 
> nānā iā ia! - check it out!
> 
> kiai ia - watch it
> 
> lolos - crazy people
> 
> *chapter title: uila me uila - lightning on lightning


	9. ka mea hiki ke ha'i ka mea e hiki mai ana

The stairwell was cold, not quite dark but strangely dim, long rain-shadows flinging themselves against the window and squirming down the dingy walls. Though Peridot’s body was exhausted as she climbed, pain throbbing in her knee and back, her mind was as busy as ever. She wished it would stop, but still it hummed traitorously with thoughts, ideas, questions, regrets, and words. Too many words to say in a lifetime, three hundred thousand variations of _I’m sorry._

     She finally reached the hall, pausing to catch her breath, wishing she could just lean against the wall and slide down, curl into herself with her head on her knees and fall asleep. Instead she went to the blue door, feeling a displaced sense of wrong when she reached automatically for her key and didn’t find it in her pocket.

     She swallowed hard, raised her hand, and knocked.

The door swung open a few seconds later, and Peridot blinked as she came face-to-face with a girl she vaguely recognized as someone from college.

     “Oh! Uh, Peridot, right?” the girl said, surprised and somewhat hesitant, and Peridot nodded. Anxiety spiked in her at the sound of Mala crying somewhere in the apartment, the whooping rhythm of unrestrained sobs.

     “Lapis sent me. To take care of Mala,” she explained shortly, wanting to just go in, feeling sick with the desire to curl up in her own bed.

     The girl’s face relaxed. _Kiki. Her name is Kiki_.

“Great, c’mon in. Maybe you’ll be able to get her to stop crying.” Peridot stepped into the room after Kiki, for some reason feeling a rush of relief at the sand gritting under her shoes. Relief turned to discomfort when she breathed in - the apartment smelled neglected, impermanent, like someone had rented a hotel room for a week and left the cleanup to a negligent maid.

     “Gunga, it’s Peridot!” Kiki called, and they went through the hall. Peridot hesitated for a second when she saw where they were turning, then followed Kiki through Lapis’s bedroom door.

     The room was small but felt spacious, high-ceilinged, the two long windows closed now but open recently judging by the rain on the floor. There was a bed in the corner, rumpled and lonely, and a crib against the opposite wall. The lamp was on in the corner, but the room still felt dark and strange.

     A tiny old woman, even shorter than Peridot, was pacing back and forth in front of the window, Mala in her arms. The baby took another great shuddering breath and then saw Peridot over the shoulder of her carrier.

     “Per-da!” she said, her eyes huge and her round cheeks shining with tears, and as she reached out something in Peridot melted.

     She crossed the room in as few steps as she could, and the old woman handed Mala to her willingly. The baby was a bit overwarm, added weight after a few months a shock in Peridot’s arms. She was still breathing heavily, and Peridot felt dampness soaking through her shirt from the tears on her face.

     “Lapis’s roommate?” the old woman asked in an accented voice, her eyes squinted as she looked up. Peridot nodded, adjusting Mala on her chest to shake the small hand thrust in her direction. “Nanefua. You call me Gunga. This baby’s been asking for you, after her mama.” She looked Peridot over with an appraising, slightly beady eye, taking in the way she held Mala. Kiki waved a little from the doorway.

     “Gunga, I’m goin’ back. I’m supposed to be working, and you know Dad needs the extra set of hands.”

     Nanefua nodded.

“I’ll come with you. Anything you need?” she shot at Peridot, and Peridot shook her head. “Okay. We live right downstairs if you change your mind. 18.”

     They exited the room and Peridot followed them mutely out through the hall, her focus on Mala’s steady breaths puffing against her chest. Kiki left, letting the door swing shut as Nanefua stopped in the living room.

     “Lots of hurt here the past few weeks,” she said. Lines cut through her face on either side of her mouth, disapproving ruts like deep furrows in brown earth, and Peridot couldn’t hold her gaze anymore. She bit back the childish _it wasn’t my fault!_ that rose automatically to her lips and let her eyes drop to her shoes.

     “Yeah,” she said, her voice squeaking. She flushed, embarrassed, and her arms tightened around Mala. “I know,” she said stiffly, “and trust me when I say I’m doing my best to rectify the situation.”

     Nanefua observed her for a handful more seconds, peering up rather owlishly through her round glasses, before nodding curtly.

     “Good. I think for a long time that these two,” she gestured widely, signifying the apartment and its regular occupants, “need a real family.”

     Something in Peridot’s throat closed up. She nodded mutely, Mala’s tiny fingers curling into her upper arms, her soft baby cheek round as a peach, resting below her collarbone like it belonged there.

     A slightly warmer look crossed Nanefua’s face as she looked at Mala sagging in Peridot’s arms. Smile lines suddenly wrinkled her skin in an entirely different way.

     “Good luck,” she said, and before Peridot could reply, she was gone, closing the front door behind her.

     She let the silence wash over her for a moment, a gray blanket over all her senses, before edging backwards and collapsing on the couch as gently as she could. Her head sank into the cushions, heavy as a stone but moving ten times as fast, and she kept her eyes open on Mala. Her chest was blooming with strange feelings, warm things and a sweet, sad regret. She thought it was for having left.

     “I missed you,” she said quietly, resting her fingers on flyaway baby curls. Her skin looked pale between dark little fingers, a trick of contrast.

     “Per-da,” Mala stated simply, tiredly, and then she looked up. Her eyes focused, half-closed and wetly exhausted with the effort of continuous crying. “Where is Mama?”

     “In the hospital,” Perdot said unthinkingly, and when Mala blinked without comprehension she added, “Resting. She’s, ah, taking a nap. She’ll be back soon.”

     The baby’s face started to crumple, and Peridot winced in preparation of the tears. But none came – the baby simply let her head drop defeatedly back onto Peridot’s chest. That resignation, somehow beyond her years, hurt more than if she had cried.

     A few hours passed on the couch in that silvered room, the rain beating the windows and the wind howling to be let in. Peridot was caught in the endless blur of having too much to say and no organized way to say it. Thoughts flew through her head, fragmented and nonsensical on their own, like debris in a tornado. A house, maybe, or some other human structure, reduced to planks and splinters. A thousand-piece jigsaw with too many of its pieces missing, impossible to reorganize or reassemble.

     Eventually Mala fell asleep for the night, nestled like a soft comma between Peridot’s arm and chest. Peridot went into her room and put Mala on the bed without waking her, arranging her carefully on her back between two pillows, worrying about suffocation or the baby rolling off the bed. Eventually, when she had convinced herself Mala was safe, she went into Lapis’s room, leaving the door as wide open as she could.

     A floorboard creaked where she stepped. She went to the crib against the wall, studied it for a moment, then gripped the bottom edge. It was clearly old, made of heavy dark wood that was scuffed but sturdy, and Peridot couldn’t budge it even as she leaned against it with all her weight.

     Peridot bit her lip, considering Mala as she went back to her room, staring at the pale green walls, her odds and ends that were still scattered across the floor and the desk. The familiar mess was comforting but not helpful in the slightest.

_I can’t sleep in here and leave her in that crib alone._

Her decision was obvious. Peridot picked Mala up, wincing at the way her head lolled back on her relaxed neck, and corrected the way she was holding her. She stepped into Lapis’s room, lowered Mala into the crib, and covered her with the soft blanket that was piled at the lower end. The baby turned to her side, one chubby hand grasping the blanket gently. Peridot leaned down without a second thought to kiss her goodnight.

     Peridot took a deep breath, swallowed, and turned to Lapis’s bed before she could change her mind.

     The sheets were cold on her thighs. She sat for a second on the edge, feeling the unfamiliar give of a mattress softer than her own. Once her prosthetic was off and on the floor, she turned and lay down as slowly as she could.

     She took a shuddering breath, feeling her face heat up as she pulled the blankets over her shoulder. The bed smelled strongly of Lapis’s clothes, like saltwater and cucumber lotion, but _more_ – this was where her dreams were made, where her body rested every night. Peridot was engulfed by her scent, something that could be described only as _Lapis,_ an intimate blush of skin that she had only smelled once – the night of the boardwalk, their mouths together, her nose buried in the crook of Lapis’s neck. It surrounded her, made every nerve in her body light up with the brief brightness of a sparkler. She inhaled deeply, drinking it in. Buried her flaming cheeks in the cool of the pillow, and hugged a portion of the blankets to her chest, pretending they were the warm and living person whose scent they possessed.

     _Just one night._

The burn of embarrassment in her stomach became less and less noticeable as she succumbed to the fogginess creeping around her head. Her shoulders relaxed, falling incrementally away from her ears. Her last waking thoughts were of irrational worry – partly that Lapis would never come back from the hospital, and partly that she would come back too soon and find Peridot here, still in her bed, holding on like she would never let go.

 

 

                                                                   *   *   *   *   *

 

 

Lapis silently opened the door of Garnet’s car, grateful that Amethyst had taken Steven back to the house before she left the hospital. The past twenty hours had gone by in a blur of too-loud voices, sheets stretched like stiff blankets of snow over cold beds. They had concluded she was underweight but otherwise fine, told her to eat more, stuck a needle in her arm, and given her beige-tasting food she hadn’t been able to touch. Information, inane questions, advice, most of which she just nodded at, wishing these blue-scrubbed and white-coated people would stop being so briskly efficient. Her brain couldn’t comprehend the words properly and just let them in as a babble of aching noise. The only stability had been Garnet, constant and quiet as a rock on the beach; waves of questions from doctors and nurses had broken against her solid and comforting presence.

     Now, though, she felt better after the hospital’s long black sleep, the clean bed, the odd feeling of being taken care of, a cool hand on her brow. Being able to get up and walk away, even after everything that had happened, had given her a bit of life, a bit of her mind back.

     “We’ll let you know when we’ve hashed out how the insurance affects the bill,” Pearl was saying nervously, twisting around to look at Lapis from the passenger seat, “although you should see about getting the money together as soon as possible.”

     Lapis nodded, feeling the beginning of a headache circle like a buzzing fly behind her eyes. She was too tired to explain how getting the money was impossible, just drowning her deeper in debt. It was easier to agree.

     Garnet rolled down her window as Lapis stepped out into the street.

“Are you going to talk to Peridot?” she asked neutrally.

     Lapis cleared her stinging rusty throat, feeling the loose hospital gown brushing the backs of her knees, pushed by the small wind leftover from the storm. It carried in smells from the ocean, freshly overturned kelp and cool salt, the scent of a new beginning.

     “Yeah,” she said, something unsettling in her chest, “I am.”

Garnet nodded, unsmiling but kind. She handed Lapis the bundle of clothes, still damp, that they had stripped her of at the hospital.

     “Good luck.”

Lapis turned and headed into her building.

     The stairwell was familiar but felt unreal, the white light from the overcast day outside glaring off the walls. She climbed the stairs, hearing her rasping breaths echo through silent space. Thoughts of seeing Mala bloomed through her head, fierce love rising tiredly in her chest. A little flutter of nerves when she remembered Peridot would be there as well.

     The blue door was unlocked, and Lapis was briefly grateful to be spared the indignity of knocking at her own door. She twisted the knob with a dry throat, pushed forward, and stepped in.

     There was a moment of just standing, looking at the freshly cleaned floors and open windows, before she registered Mala on the floor.

     “Mama!” Mala cried, dropping the picture book she was holding. Lapis bent down and held out her arms as her daughter careened towards her.

     “E hele mai, i kahi keiki,” she whispered, slowly hoisting Mala up and kissing her hair, “Makemake nui ko’u aloha ia’oe.”

     After only a few seconds, Lapis saw Peridot come out of the hall, stop abruptly, and bite her lip. Her heart skipped a little in her chest, her throat suddenly drier at the way Peridot was hovering, trying to decide whether or not to come in like a cat confronted with an open door. Under other circumstances it would have been funny, but Lapis had never felt less like laughing.

     “I won’t _bite_ you,” she said, her voice hoarse and low. Peridot hesitated and then came forward, holding her own hands, fingers twisting, twisting around each other. Lapis was inhaling the tension, electric air crackling in the cavern of her ribs.

     She noticed Peridot’s eyes were red and a bit swollen behind her glasses, the tip of her nose chapped like she had been running through a snowstorm. Clearly crying. Her freckles stood out darkly against her skin, which looked pale and drained. For almost a minute they just looked, trying to avoid each other’s eyes but not really succeeding. Lapis could almost hear Peridot’s heart racing.

     “How was the hospital?” Peridot asked, her voice a bit too loud as she broke the silence.

     “Terrible,” Lapis replied, watching a quick, strained little smile dart over Peridot’s mouth. “Things got… interesting when they found out I don’t have health insurance.”

     “What?” Peridot asked, horrified, the smile disappearing. Lapis sighed through her nose. “That’s not good, Lapis – where are you going to –“

     “I really need to sleep,” Lapis interjected. Peridot’s mouth snapped shut, and Lapis felt bad for a second, her head pounding with the continuation of her headache.

     “I – of course,” Peridot stuttered.

Lapis’s insides squirmed in the awkwardness. So many things she wanted to say, and her tongue was tied right in the middle. She jerked her head and turned away, heading down the hallway. She could hear Peridot’s nervous footsteps following her all the way up to the doorway of her room.

     “I can take Mala into the living room, if you want. We were going to read a book.”

They both looked at Mala as if she could diffuse the tension snapping in the air. The baby clung to Lapis’s arms, shaking her head.

     “A’ole. Don’t want story.”

“Okay, Ono. We’re going to take a nap, then,” Lapis said. The room had been straightened up a bit, and the bed was made neatly, definitely not how she had left it. She turned down the blankets, put Mala down, and glanced at Peridot, expecting her to leave but not really wanting her to. For some reason, the younger girl was blushing darkly, her eyes on the bed.

     “I – I changed your sheets,” Peridot blurted out. Lapis blinked. This raised several questions that she was too tired to deal with, so she just nodded.

     “Okay,” she said, flat, and Peridot flushed further, her ears rosy. Lapis couldn’t suppress the little jolt that went through her stomach at the warm color.

     “Sleep well,” Peridot said haltingly, lingering around the doorway.

Lapis bit her lip, shifting unconsciously closer to where Peridot stood with her hands still at chest level, plucking at the front of her sweatshirt. Her fingers wrapped around each other, picking nervously at the already short-clipped nails. Lapis ignored the urge to grab her hands, stop the clicking sound her nails were making, scream with frustration over how goddamn _normal_ they were pretending and failing to be.

     She shook herself when she realized she was standing right in the doorway, looking down into Peridot’s dilated eyes. Only a breath away, and she could feel the heat ghosting off the younger girl’s skin –

     Lapis jerked back into her room, swallowing over the lump in her throat. She closed the door gently, cuddling Mala to her chest. Her daughter was warm, sleepy, and smelled of clean cotton.

     Lapis stripped off the hospital gown and got into bed. She did her best to go to sleep, to calm her breathing, but all she could see was heaving underwater blackness, and all she could feel was a hand, wrapped around her wrist like a painful cuff. A prisoner.

     Lapis lay with her eyes open long after Mala had fallen asleep. Life could wait until tomorrow.

 

 

                                                                       *   *   *   *   *

 

 

Lapis was back, she was alive, she was _in the other room,_ and Peridot hadn’t done anything but sputter about her godforsaken _sheets._

She paced around her room, too riled up to lay on her bed and think. Something heavy had hit her chest when Lapis walked through the door, almost skeletal in the floating enormity of her hospital gown, her cheeks hollow and her eyes bruised. Peridot had opened her mouth, the weight of what she wanted to say piling up on her tongue, and she couldn’t even bring herself to say it.

     _I’m sorry._

She kicked her metal wastebasket, gritting her teeth at the stupid pain that flared in her toe.

     Her mind was a calamity, whirling too hard to do much of anything. Peridot thought of Lapis safely asleep in the other room, warm under blankets, lungs devoid of killing water. She paced. She tried to work on her apology.

     Some hours passed, the digital clock on her desk clicking to eight, ten, eleven, and eventually Peridot couldn’t stand it anymore. She felt like climbing the walls, and had caught herself kicking things on the floor too much as she paced in ever-tightening circles. She went out into the kitchen and reached for the coffeemaker, but something made her hesitate. The room felt unfamiliar after her months of absence, the overspill of dirty dishes from the full sink to the countertops, the last bouquet of flowers she had brought dead and shriveled in a vase on the table. All the petals had dropped from the roses she remembered picking out one by one, white lilies dried and puckered like abandoned tubes of lipstick. She was suddenly aware that it was Lapis’s kitchen, Lapis’s coffee, and the realization that she no longer knew of it would be okay for her to take a chipped mug from the cabinet made a lump swell in her throat.

     She took a glass of water instead, and she heard a door open in the hallway, the rush of water into the bathroom sink. She didn’t turn around as Lapis came into the living room a few minutes later. She smelled toothpaste, and a complicated feeling rose in her chest.

     “Can you make tea?” Lapis whispered from the couch, her voice hoarse with sleep and heavy with something else, and Peridot pictured her curled into the cushions, pressing backwards as if she could disappear. Moonlight on the floor, pale and tarnished white. She took the kettle down and filled it, flicked on the stove. While the water was heating up, she rinsed two mugs and looked at the teas in the high cabinet. Chamomile, chai, green, black, Lady Grey. The taste of honey, thick and sweet. She chose the chamomile, poured steaming water into both cups on top of both teabags. She could afford to comfort herself tonight.

     Lapis accepted her mug with a nod of thanks. She was on one end of the couch, but she still moved over slightly to make room, a clear invitation. Peridot’s stomach was heavy with guilt and dread.

     “We need to talk,” Lapis stated baldly as Peridot sat.

Swallowing the first mouthful of too-hot tea, Peridot nodded.

     “I agree,” she said, leaving out the rest: _but now that it’s time to, I really don’t feel particularly inclined._

     She finally looked up at Lapis, who was studying the mug of tea in her lap, hands clasped around the warmth. One leg folded up under her, one leg trailing off the couch like an unfinished thought, the posture’s familiarity enough to make Peridot’s chest ache. She was wearing sweatpants and an old, soft-washed tank top, and looked absurdly young – nineteen, twenty.

     Peridot cleared her throat and opened her mouth, but nothing came. Lapis’s ribs were showing through her chest, her collarbone in sharp relief, and her eyes were bruised and tired. The carefully formulated apology vanished from Peridot’s head.

     “I was an absolute _clod,_ ” she heard herself saying, and Lapis’s eyes snapped to hers. “I kept secrets from you, I lied about them, I was too selfish to tell you because I _knew_ how upset you would be if you found out, and I’m sorry.”

     Her ears burned, but she kept her eyes on Lapis. She looked neutral, unaware of the adrenaline pounding through Peridot’s stomach, the fear of rejection thrumming in her ears.

     “That’s a start,” Lapis said, “but messy. I’m still pretty tired, so if you can hold off on all the feelings for a second.”

     Peridot fought the simultaneous desires to laugh at the irony of Lapis telling _her_ to be cool and logical and cry at the bite in her tone. She felt her mouth close into a tight line.

     “Okay,” she said, hating the sarcasm sharp in her own voice, and Lapis bit her lip. “What would you like me to say right now that isn’t dripping with inconvenient emotion?”

     “I want you to answer some questions,” Lapis said, quietly. “But first. I’m sorry too.” The words cleared some of the dense tension from the air, and Peridot could breathe again.

     “Okay,” she said, “okay. I can – I can answer questions.”

“How long was Jasper contacting you about wanting to see me? Before the – the boardwalk?” Lapis asked after a moment, her hands white-knuckled on her mug of tea, her eyes in her lap. Peridot swallowed as the tension came rushing back, practically feeling the fear crowding into Lapis’s head.

     “About three months,” she said, her voice low. Lapis nodded jerkily, her cup coming up to her mouth, a few drops sloshing over the edge and staining dark little circles on the couch.

     “Okay,” Lapis said, her voice struggling to keep anger below the surface, “maika’i. Why did you not only avoid telling me, but also decide it was okay to use me like a convenient little tool to make Jasper go away?”

     Shame prickled across Peridot’s skin, needled behind her eyes. Lapis looked turbulent, her eyes dark, mouth tense, frown lines threatening her smooth forehead.

     “I was a coward,” she said, and Lapis blinked, considering. “I was so afraid you would make me leave that I didn’t tell you, and I was terrified of Jasper hurting you again. Then I hurt you sufficiently myself.” Her throat closed up. _Selfish._ She continued, forcing the words out her aching mouth. “I – I really failed to think it through. That night. I thought if I could convince her we were actually – you _know_ – if there was objective _proof,_ that she would finally leave us alone.” She felt her ears heating up. “I’m sorry I used you. I – I wasn’t thinking. I just – I felt like we were in danger when Jasper was there.”

     Lapis took a sip of tea, a deep breath. Eventually, she spoke with difficulty, playing with the torn edge of the couch cushion, ripping the loose fibers.

     “I do have a problem with you using me. But I’m sorry for overreacting when you told me. Akua, I don’t really believe you were off conspiring with Jasper, I don’t even know if I believed it then. I probably just needed something to freak out about. It was all going too well.” She laughed without smiling, trying too hard keep her voice light. “I’m not used to wanting to trust people. I guess you made me get too close for comfort.”

     Pity lurched through Peridot as she cracked a nervous, brittle smile. She could hear the undertone of guilt in Lapis’s voice, whispering _I was wrong._ She wanted to take Lapis’s hand, or kiss her, or do any number of things; she took a drink of tea instead.

     “I shouldn’t have kept that from you in the first place, not when I knew the effects it would have on you. So you were right not to trust me, in the end,” Peridot said, and the false smile was back, though she could feel it turn down in the corners, a grimacing preview of tears.

     “You didn’t want to hurt me, though.” Thoughtful, like someone trying to get used to a new idea. “You thought you were protecting me by not telling me.”

     As much as Peridot wanted to agree, to give in to the hope of warmth in Lapis’s voice, her conscience pushed ugly words from the cavity of her chest.

     “Don’t have any misconceptions of nobility,” she said, her voice hard. “I was so selfish, Lapis. I lied mostly because I didn’t want you to make me leave. I – I convinced myself you needed me to help take care of Mala.” Lapis’s head came up, and the look in her eyes yanked Peridot’s heart. “Stars, I was wrong. I knew I was wrong even then. But I didn’t intend to hurt you. I will _never_ intend to hurt you.”

     Lapis’s eyes shone, and Peridot held her gaze until she nodded once, twice, slowly.

     “Okay,” she said, and Peridot let her breath out, unaware she had been holding it. “Okay. I believe you. And,” she hesitated for a fraction of a second, “I’m selfish too. I made you give me so much and then treated you like shit. I – I’m still scared of manipulating you. Maybe Jasper was right. You’re a good person, I’m not. You should run as fast as you can, Peridot.” Peridot’s chest was cracking at the self-loathing in Lapis’s eyes, white-knuckled hands too tight around warm porcelain. “I could still hurt you again. I’ve made the same mistakes too many times.”

     “Lapis, listen to yourself! Since when has Jasper been right about anything?” Peridot asked, a kind of painful sadness and anger mixing to scorch her throat. “You can’t keep depending on her for irrelevant opinions. She doesn’t control anything. And don’t you dare believe you’re not a good person.” Peridot stopped to take a breath, the lump in her throat returning to choke her out, thinking of Lapis in the rich sunlight on the beach, holding Mala so gently with so much love, tossing bread to the seagulls and picking up little shells from the sand. Lapis was looking down into her mug at the rapidly cooling tea, worrying her lower lip. Peridot reached out and gently touched the back of Lapis’s cold hand, gave it a small squeeze. “And, despite what you seem to think, I’m not afraid of you.” Lapis looked up, the feeling in her eyes unidentifiable, not moving her hand away but not grasping Peridot’s in return.

     “What if you should be?” Lapis whispered, her voice naked, miserable, frightened as a child in the dark.

     Peridot realized with a giddy jolt that she didn’t care. She had seen Lapis at her worst, lashing out in desperate fear and anger, and she still didn’t want to run away. Despite everything, this was home – the threadbare couch and pale walls, the plants crowding for light in the windowsills, Mala’s toys on the floor, Lapis’s hand trembling in hers. And if Lapis wanted her, she wasn’t leaving again – not anytime soon.

     “I will never be scared of you,” Peridot whispered to Lapis, “because you have not once given me reason to be. You are _nothing_ like Jasper.”

     Lapis stole a rough inhale, and Peridot saw a tear catch and glitter like a diamond in her eyelashes. Her clenched hand opened, slowly as a hibiscus blooming in the sun, and with breathtaking slowness, she pushed her fingers through Peridot’s. She felt the hope of intertwining break like sunrise over the horizon.

     “Akua, e kala mai ea’u, Peridot,” she sighed, voice tremulous with tears, “I’m so, so sorry.”

     Peridot tightened her fingers around Lapis’s, stroking the soft junction of her finger and thumb. She thought she could feel every fiber in her heart, ripping along the lines between wild joy and a profound, bittersweet sadness.

   “Well, that makes two of us,” she said, and Lapis gave a short, surprised laugh, no more than a huff of air through her mouth. A good sound, indescribably good, suddenly familiar again in Peridot’s ears. A glow of something rekindled in her chest.

   “Will you stay?” Lapis asked thickly, leaning forward, her face tinged with pink, her eyes puffy with tears. A drip glistened at the tip of her nose, and she wiped at it with the back of her hand. Peridot thought she had never seen anyone look more beautiful.

     “As long as you want me,” she said, her heart going off like a firecracker, and at last, at long last, she was leaning in.

     The kiss was slow and soft, nothing like the supernova of the boardwalk. Peridot didn’t see stars, but instead felt flowers bloom with wild meadow sweetness in her chest, tasted mint and mellow chamomile and some melancholy salt that might have been the ocean but might have been tears.

     They only had a second before Lapis pulled away.

“I’m sorry, Peridot, but I – I can’t do this right now.”

     It took a washed-out moment for her brain to catch up. Then she was falling, flailing into some quicksand pit of confusion, disappointment turning her voice to an undignified squeak.

     “Wait – what?”

Lapis took a deep breath, her hand tightening on Peridot’s.

     “I – I care about you. A lot. And I want you to stay here. But I can’t do a relationship right now.”

     Peridot could feel her pulse thudding in her neck, knew she was staring blankly as Lapis continued.

   “I’ve been really fucked up lately,” she said, and her eyes were screaming something tired, glittering with all the depth and blankness of an onyx. “I need help. I need to see a therapist, try and scrape all this money together for the akua ho’okolokolo’ia hospital. Try and find another job, I guess.” She swallowed. “I won’t be able to be there for you yet. Or give you any part of me that’s not useless. And I don’t want that.” Lapis’s eyes dropped, a flush appearing on her cheeks. “I want both of us to get something equal out of it.”

     Frustration rose like a tide of bile, deflating the bubble of joy in Peridot’s stomach. They had a crazy fantasy chance to make this work, to bring themselves together, but real life had gotten in the way again with all its instrumental concerns, its stupid nuances and technicalities _._

     _Technicalities._

A thought struck her – an absolutely ridiculous thought, one that she would have had to be insane to voice out loud.

     She spoke slowly.

“You don’t have health insurance,” Peridot stated. Lapis looked thrown at the change in topic, but nodded, her mouth turning down. “And you need to find and pay for a therapist, as well as this hospital bill.” She thought, letting the rhetoric spin out for a moment, the weight of what she was about to say pressing down on the silent room. Lapis’s hand was still in hers, their palms intimate and warm, and she realized she was finished, done for, completely ready to undertake the mad dash forward into whatever lay ahead.

     “Pardon the rare instance of me presenting a ridiculous hypothesis,” Peridot said after a moment, her mouth dry, feeling heat creep up her neck, “but – you would be covered under health insurance from my job, we would get at least seven different tax benefits, and Mala would receive good health insurance under a family plan. All we have to do – hypothetically, of course – is sign a piece of paper.”

     There was a beat as Lapis put two and two together.

“Peridot Olivine,” she said, her mouth curling into the first hint of a real smile, “are you _proposing?”_

     Peridot felt her face flush into a beacon, an oil fire burning all the way from her collarbone to the tips of her ears. She pushed her glasses up, sputtering under the sound of Lapis’s musical laughter.

     “I, ah – I – well – completely hypothetical – that is, not if you – if you – “

Lapis cut her off effectively with a quick kiss to the corner of her mouth. A smile sweetened her mouth as she pulled away, that little diagonal grin Peridot had forgotten the privilege to see.

     “We’ll see,” was all she said.

 

 

                                                                   *   *   *   *   *                    

 

 

                                                             _two months later_

 

 

Peridot checked her watch nervously, Mala’s hair tickling the underside of her chin. Thin, early-winter light flowed through the windows like water, the branches of the bare sycamores outside clattering in the wind. The gummy smell of Play-Doh wafted up from the floor as Mala squished a piece in her hands.

     “Per-da, make a fish.”

“Okay, okay. If you insist.”

     She broke off a large piece, encircling Mala with her arms so the toddler could see her hands sculpting the crude outline of a fish – a pointed oval with one end split into two leaflike fins. Anxiety thrummed low in her stomach, constant as an electric current. It was half-past three, and Lapis had planned to be back by two.

     “I mean, the session is only forty-five minutes,” she’d said from the doorway, a long skirt and a dove-gray sweater, purse slung over one shoulder. The pale sunlight had illuminated the edges of her hair, a cool navy, and brushed her skin with copper. “Probably won’t be more than an hour.”

     Mala laughed, grabbing at the head of the fish.

“Ka maka, Per-da, make a eye!” Her head tilted back, her own dark-coffee eyes crinkling in her round face. Her little chin was becoming an inverted teardrop, so much like Lapis’s. “She needta see!”

     _She’s fine. Stop worrying so much._

Peridot dutifully used her fingernail to press a crescent into the middle of the fish’s head.

     _For star’s sake, people go to therapy to get_ better _. She’s fine._

“That her eye?” Mala asked skeptically, taking the fish from Peridot’s hand.

     “I think you’re greatly overestimating my artistic capacity, kiddo,” Peridot said, blowing a gentle raspberry on Mala’s warm cheek. Mala cackled and tried to squirm away. Slow footsteps echoed outside in the hall.

     Peridot smiled in relief at the sound of the lock clicking, the door swinging inwards. She opened her mouth, smile widening as Mala whirled around, abandoning the Play-Doh. The fish fell to the floor, folded in half.

     “Mama’s home!”

Peridot looked up, started to ask something. The words died in her throat.

     Something was terribly wrong with Lapis. She stood in the doorway with her feet apart, her head down, hair in her eyes. There was a disturbingly loose look about her slumped shoulders, like something inside her unraveling. Her hand reached up as if to sweep her hair aside, made it halfway there, and then fluttered back down, grasping directionlessly at her leg.

     Peridot was on her feet faster than she knew she could move, her arms around Lapis in a second. Her clothes were cold to the touch, and she was trembling, her thin body a leaf barely clinging to a wind-ripped branch.

     “Peridot – please –“ she muttered vaguely, trying to brush away Peridot’s hands as they checked for injuries, skimming over her back and shoulders, her arms, her soft neck.

     “Stars, Lapis what _happened?_ Did someone atta –“

“Maika’i wau,” she said, “no. I’m alright. I –“ she broke off as Mala tugged her skirt.

     “Mama! He aha ka pilikia?” she asked, her voice wavering. Lapis picked her up, avoiding Peridot’s eyes.

     “Maika’i wau,” she repeated, this time to her daughter, “’a’ohe mea kupono, Ono.”

“ _Lapis,”_ Peridot insisted, resting her hand on Lapis’s arm as she started to turn away. Lapis hesitated, then looked down, half-meeting Peridot’s gaze.

   Peridot felt a horrible wallop in her chest. Lapis’s eyes held no evidence of tears, but were wide and unfocused, glassy as an empty sea.

     “I’m fucked, Peridot,” she whispered, and that seemed to collapse her. She sagged forward into Peridot’s arms, Mala sandwiched between them. A deep, shuddering inhale ripped through her, and she started to cry.

     Peridot wasn’t aware of what she said, only stuttered poorly constructed comfort as she led Lapis to the couch. Mala wriggled, upset, as Lapis sank into a ball, feet tucked up, hugging her daughter to her chest like an oversized doll.

     “ _Mama,”_ she complained, her voice piping and concerned. Peridot reached out and gently took Mala, settling the warm toddler weight on her own lap. She touched a quaking shoulder, retracting with a pang of guilt when Lapis flinched away.

     “Would you like to talk about it?” Peridot ventured after a few minutes, when Lapis had stilled, resting her head facedown on her arms. She was gripping her folded legs tightly, as if trying to hold together something broken. A strangled laugh came from her.

     “I just spent the last two hours talking about it. ‘A’ole na’e.”

“…Okay,” Peridot said, troubled, then repeated herself for lack of something better to say. “Okay.”

     Lapis spent a few hours on the couch, completely unmoving. Peridot bustled between the kitchen and the living room, trying to make dinner and keep Mala occupied on the floor.

     “Lapis?” Peridot stood in the kitchen doorway, hesitant. Lapis didn’t raise her head. “Do you want something to eat?”

     A minute shake of the head was all she offered. Peridot hesitated, then turned back to the kitchen and started to feed Mala. She didn’t see Lapis get off the couch, but eventually she heard the bathroom door close and the water flow into the sink.

     The next few hours were exhausting, worry ferreting through her mind as she got Mala ready for bed. Lapis was in her bedroom, but when Peridot knocked softly, with Mala on her hip washed and smelling of toothpaste, she opened the door. Something in Lapis’s eyes focused and softened, close to normal, and Peridot smiled in relief, kissed Mala goodnight, and passed her over.

     Lapis eventually came to the couch. She took a deep breath and sat down, her thigh pressing warm against Peridot’s.

     They talked, quiet as snow falling in the ocean, hands intertwined, Lapis’s head cradled on Peridot’s shoulder.

 

 

                                                                 *   *   *   *   *

 

 

Lapis got into her building, huffing in relief as the heat blasted some feeling into her numb fingers. She took the stairs two at a time, feeling the satisfying burn of strong muscles working smoothly, the bags in her arms teetering.

     She moved to unlock the front door before realizing her key was in her purse and her hands were full of poinsettia. She huffed a small laugh at her own shortsightedness.

     “Peridot!” she called, giving the door a series of staccato taps with her foot, “let me in.”

     She smiled at the sound of footsteps on the other side of the door – one adult set, uneven, and the patter of tiny bare feet, the endless excitement of a toddler.

     “Hmmm,” Lapis heard, muffled, “there’s a pretty lady outside, Mala. Should we let her in to have dinner with us?”

     “That’s _Mama!”_ Mala said indignantly. She heard Peridot’s quiet laughter.

“You got me.”

     Lapis laughed too, and called through the door.

“I’m the one with the groceries, _ka meli,_ so you’ll let me in if you want dinner at all.”

     The lock clicked, the door swung open, and Peridot reached for a couple bags.

“You’re failing to consider the magic of packaged noodles,” she said.

     “Not true – I’m failing to consider that _food_.”

Peridot didn’t bother to retort, just sighed in a long-suffering way as Lapis nudged past her with her hip. They went to put the groceries on the table.

     There was soft music playing from Peridot’s open laptop on the coffee table. Lapis hummed along - _while fields and floods, rocks hills and plains, repeat the sounding joy, repeat the sounding joy, repeat the sounding joy._

“These are beautiful,” Peridot said, touching a vibrant red poinsettia on the table. “What are they for?”

     “I want to teach Mala how to make a poinsettia wreath,” Lapis said, shoving a bag of rice into the cabinet and turning just in time to catch the look on Peridot’s face. She smirked. “You too, if you want. If we make a good one we can hang it on the door.”

     “That would be nice,” Peridot said after a moment.

A strange unspoken something bloomed in the air between them, sweet and heavy as a snowstorm. Lapis suddenly realized she _wanted_ with an unknown ferocity, wanted _this_ , wanted them sitting on the floor eating sweetbread for breakfast on Christmas, wanted to see Peridot tucking a hat carefully over Mala’s ears, wanted to go out together in the snow and kiss cold lips as their breath plumed above them in feathers of warm steam.

     Something must have shown on her face, some widening of eyes or maybe the warmth in her cheeks betraying her, because Peridot was stepping towards her, a stricken hope dawning on her face. Lapis felt her heart up in her throat skip and stutter. The music was still playing, spinning out into the quiet, a joyful choir building a rapture of sound. Lapis felt herself withdrawing, a fear building stronger and stronger because it couldn’t shrink the feelings back into her stomach.

     _Oh oh akua, I’m not ready for this._

The odd tension broke as Mala spoke from the doorway.

     “Mama, we have paki palaoa?”

Grateful for the interruption, Lapis moved across the room and scooped Mala up in one fluid motion. Her daughter laughed, wide and open and arching her back, as Lapis blew a raspberry on her neck.

     Peridot looked troubled, her face soft.

“Lapis –“

     “She wants papaya bread,” Lapis interrupted, trying not to let any note of desperation enter her voice, “but we don’t have papaya, Mala. And we’re not having sweets for dinner.”

     “But it _Christmas,_ Mama,” Mala said, her voice somehow both cunning and innocuous. Peridot and Lapis both laughed, and the last of the tension dispelled, a wisp of cloud blowing out of a fragile sky.

     “It’s not Christmas yet, sweetheart,” Lapis said, and Peridot turned away with a grin, began putting vegetables in the fridge. “A few more days.”

     “Mashies then? E ‘olu ‘olu?”

Lapis fish-kissed her cheek, moving her lips open and closed until she laughed again, trying to squirm away.

     “Maika’i, Ono. We can make that.”

Peridot turned from the fridge, milk in her hand.

   “We want mashed potatoes? Should we do chicken with that?”

Lapis grinned and shifted Mala around to her hip.

   “Good idea. Rosemary, onion and cranberry. I’ll make you a good cook yet, ‘ae?”

Peridot snorted, pulling potatoes out of the bottom of the fridge and piling them up on the counter.

     “I doubt it. Remember that time when I managed to fuse the rice to the bottom of the pan?”

     Lapis laughed as she took pots and pans down from the shelf.

“We’ve all got to start somewhere.”

     The kitchen grew warm and fragrant, and Peridot eventually hummed along to the music with Lapis, her voice high and reedy, slightly off-key. Eventually, snow started to fall outside, white eiderdown drifting from the pale winter sky.

     _And wonders of his love, and wonders of his love, and wonders, wonders of his love._

                                                                     *   *   *   *   *

 

 

Peridot huffed cold air as she tramped across the frozen grass on the quad. The air was brightening over weeks, the four o’clock sunset flushing the sky with a delicate February yellow.

     She lingered outside the humanities building, leaning against the old brick, shivering at the cold seeping in through the back of her jacket. Nervousness danced in her chest, her brain flying. She shouldn’t have left it this long.

     _I’m sorry, but I only consider you a friend. I’m sorry, I’m romantically involved with someone else. As much as I would like to – I can’t afford to – I enjoy spending time in your company, but –_

The flood of students started, coming in pairs or groups of three. Peridot swallowed deeply, scanning for a head of sleek hair, a hint of a red scarf.

     She spotted Ana with two other people, artsy-looking, black jackets and dangling earrings, all of them laughing about something. Peridot felt a brief guilt about interrupting, but stepped forward anyway.

     “ – and I said, ‘Why would I when we _literally_ have to turn this in by _midnight?’_ and she was all blustery, you know, like –“

     She cleared her throat, embarrassed, and Ana’s face brightened in recognition. Her friends looked over curiously. The girl on the left, hair in a messy bun, a pencil stuck through the back, elbowed Ana and whispered audibly, “Oh shit! Isn’t she the one you –“

     “Peridot!” Ana interrupted. “Wow, I haven’t even seen you since last semester! I guess sociology was an obligatory credit for your major, huh? You dropped _that_ like it was hot.”

     Her friends laughed, and Peridot grinned awkwardly.

“Yes, well, I don’t have much use for sociology when working with computers,” she said, pushing her glasses up nervously, “at least until artificial intelligence makes another significant leap.”

     Ana was the only one who laughed at the joke, and Peridot’s stomach squirmed. She barreled on before she lost her courage.

     “Look, can we – can I talk to you about something? Alone?”

Her friends glanced at each other out of the corners of their eyes, suppressing giggles through round cheeks, and Peridot cursed them as she felt her ears burning red.

     Thankfully Ana didn’t antagonize her, just nodded, unable to keep a smile off her face.

     “Sure. You want to go this way?”

Peridot nodded gratefully as they split off from her friends, heading down a twisting path bordered with pale trees.

   They stopped about halfway down, once the babble of conversation had faded to a background swell of white noise.

     Ana stopped, looking down expectantly, her eyebrows raised, playing unconsciously with the ends of her scarf. Her glasses were slightly fogged, her nose red, and an expectant little smile lingered at the corners of her mouth.

     Peridot tugged uncomfortably at her coat collar, a little sound of frustration leaking out of her mouth.

     Ana raised her eyebrows, moving her chin forward in a clear _say what you want to say already._ Peridot sighed heavily, watching the exhale dragon-breath out of her nose. Her blood had been replaced by lava, her face molten, and she started to stutter it out.

     “Ana, I enjoy spending time with you, and I think of you as a friend, but I felt – and still feel – obligated to notify you that – that – “

     “ – you only think of me as a friend, you don’t like me romantically, and you’re seeing someone else?” Ana finished, her smile turning odd and wistful, and Peridot’s mouth dropped open.

     “I – I – how – ?” was all she could get out. Ana laughed a little.

“Please. At first I thought you might just be awkward. You seemed a little put off at first. But remember in September we went to that café to study, after I gave you my number?” She paused for a second, her eyes combing Peridot’s face. “You looked so _guilty_ about – well, about everything. Your body language was so tense – your shoulders were, like, up around your ears. You couldn’t focus at all, you kept tapping your fingers. And when your phone went off, you looked so hopeful, like you were waiting for someone to text you. I knew there was no chance after that.”

     Peridot closed her gaping mouth.

“You – you _deduced_ all that?” she said, unable to keep the incredulity out of her voice. Ana laughed again, her smile turning mischievous.

     “I’m a psychology major, Peridot. I didn’t take three semesters of communications classes to not learn how to read people.”

     “Well, that’s impressive to say the least. And, I’m. Ah. Glad you’re taking this so well,” Peridot said awkwardly, and then immediately wished she hadn’t as Ana’s smile turned sour.

     “Yeah, don’t worry about it,” she said, her voice slightly strained. Then she softened slightly, flecked eyes frank and kind. “It’s your roommate, isn’t it? The one whose baby you were watching.”

     Peridot nodded, marveling at her. Ana smiled again, a bit of melancholy shining through, but Peridot thought she wouldn’t feel sad for long.

     “Well, I wish you the best.” There was an odd pause. Peridot muttered her thanks, and caught something like disappointment before Ana turned her head away. “Anyway, we should go. My friends might even be waiting for me.”

     They headed back down the path, the tension Peridot had expected hanging between them like a neon sign advertising awkwardness.

     Ana’s friend with the bun was waiting at the front of the humanities building, stomping and blowing on her hands. She looked up when they approached.

     “Thank God, I’ve been freezing my ass off,” she called. Ana gave a forced smile, but the friend carried on, oblivious. “Seb had to go to music theory, you _know_ how the professor is, but can we please still go for coffee?” She seemed to notice Peridot for the first time, and added, “Peridot, right? Hey, want to come along?”

     Peridot glanced at Ana, her body language. Shoulders a bit higher than usual, tension in the set of her mouth, her hand clenching a fist in her coat pocket, her arm a hard straight line. She shook her head.

     “No thanks. I have to go home and. Ah. Finish a paper.”

The friend nodded, already losing interest.

     “Alright, see you around. Ana, coming?”

Ana turned away from Peridot.

     “Yeah. Were you feeling Starbucks or the Black Cat?”

They were already moving away down the path, striding away on legs much longer than hers, so she couldn’t have kept up if she wanted to. She felt a slight sinking feeling, a disappointment that she lost herself a friend.

     She went home, the bus ride spent toying with the idea of telling Lapis, then deciding not to unless she asked. She made sure her shoulders were relaxed before she stepped through the front door.

     But next week, when she was hurrying past the humanities building, she heard her name called cheerily from the doorway.

     Ana’s hair was different, swinging around the bottoms of her ears in a mass of short waves. Peridot smiled uncertainly, waving.

     “To what do I owe this unexpected pleasure?” she asked, curious. Ana smiled and tucked a piece of hair behind her ear.

     “You want to come to the bookstore with me and a couple friends tonight? We’ll be ‘studying’” – she made quotes with her fingers – “which translates to browsing books and drawing on the café chalkboard until they kick us out. No obligation, obviously, but it’ll be fun.”

    Peridot blinked, and then something unexpected tumbled out of her mouth.

“Sure,” she heard herself say, “that sounds – enjoyable.”

     Ana’s smile widened, surprised and pleased.

“Great!” she said, and they fell into step together, Ana adjusting her stride to fit Peridot’s. “Anyway, did you see that grad student, that new librarian? She is _so_ cute.”

     Peridot found herself grinning. The sunset was lightly purple, buds just beginning to show on the bare branches of the trees. They walked down the path to whatever class came next, reveling in the newness of the air.

 

 

                                                                   *   *   *   *   *

 

 

There was darkness, a thick, pressing darkness, and dripping like a hollow room. She was suffocating, blank fear ripping in from all sides, pressing on her solar plexus, entering her head like a high-pitched siren. Something was going to roar out at her from the dark, she could _feel_ it, and nauseous waves of anticipation rolled in her stomach as her eyes rolled in her head.

     She turned and saw a hole in the floor. With a jolt of horror she realized something was swelling up out of the hole, a dark bubble getting bigger and bigger, ready to burst. She staggered towards it, despite the fear in head pounding stronger and stronger with every inch she moved. Her feet were sluggish, trying to move through a foot of stagnant water that swirled on the floor with revolting viscosity.

     She pushed down on the bubble, both hands, trying to force it back into the hole. It was an enormous effort, like pushing a boulder uphill. Her shoulders were ripping open with the pain, but the bubble was receding, pushing, pushing, nearly even with the rim of the goddamn hole –

     The bubble burst, and an ocean was pouring out in geysers of oily black water, filling up the room and knocking her off her feet. She went under, and she couldn’t breathe – she opened her mouth to scream for help, and her lungs were filling, her eyes were filling, and she heard Jasper’s thundering laughter and felt hands grasping her everywhere, her skin crawling with needles of ice, hands gripping, twisting, breaking her, hands like cuffs, around her wrists, her ankles, her throat –

     _“Lapis!”_

 _“E lawe ia ia mai o’u oku nei, e lawe ia ia mai o’u oku nei,”_ she was sobbing, and the sound of her own unconscious voice scared her more than her scream echoing around the room. The blankets were twisted around her legs like a steel trap, sweat pooling on the backs of her knees, and the room was confusing for a moment before the familiar shapes of the furniture emerged from the dark.

     Something cold was pressed into her hands from next to the bed.

“Another nightmare?” Peridot asked, her voice gentle in the dark.

     Lapis nodded, kicking the sheets down. She clutched the frozen orange gratefully, letting the rough skin ground her, letting the coldness seep through her palms.

     She saw Peridot move through the dark, stopping in silhouette to pry the window open an inch. The night air was warm, a fresh breath that blew away the metallic scent of fear.

     “Is Mala okay?” Lapis asked, feeling something wrong with her voice. Peridot nodded, moving back from the window. Her hand lingered on the blanket, smoothing it, and Lapis grabbed it, pushing their fingers together.

     “She slept through it,” Peridot answered, her thumb stroking over Lapis’s knuckles. Lapis’s eyes were adjusting, and she saw Peridot wasn’t wearing her glasses, her eyes tired and soft, hair standing up in a riot of sleep-mussed curls.

     They sat like that, silent, breathing, as the feelings unfroze in Lapis’s chest. Peridot eventually squeezed her hand, which she knew meant she was about to let go. Something unraveled in her in the charcoal dark, some bravery or resolution that she felt would be gone when the sun rose.

     “Sleep here,” she whispered, not letting go of her hand. She heard the breath catch in Peridot’s throat. “Please.”

     There was a pause, full of things tender and unsaid, and Lapis was afraid to breathe into the air. Peridot slid backwards onto the edge of the bed, as slowly as a flower blooming in the secret of a summer night.

     She bent over her leg, and Lapis watched as she undid the straps of her prosthesis, dropped the metal gently to the floor. She sat for a moment longer, her elbows on her knees, head bent as if in prayer.

     Peridot turned, lying down, and Lapis opened her arms to meet her.

She pulled her in, feeling warmth flush over her whole body at Peridot’s breath on her collarbone. She could feel Peridot’s heart pounding in tandem with her own, hammering individually through each rib. She draped one arm over Peridot’s waist, and slipped the other under the delicate curve of her neck. Their stomachs pressed together, their legs tangled, and they were just breathing, Peridot into Lapis’s skin and Lapis into Peridot’s hair.

     Eventually, Peridot relaxed, her hands coming unclenched against Lapis’s chest and her arm slipping underneath Lapis’s, tracing lazy patterns on her back. Lapis didn’t think, half-engulfed in sleep, her brain misty and warm. She leaned down and kissed Peridot, lips soft and chapped, feeling rightness explode in her like the sun blazing out through clouds.

     They fell asleep like that, and when they woke the next morning it was too hot, Lapis’s hair sweaty on the back of her neck, uncomfortably cramped in the twin-sized bed, pins and needles burning up Peridot’s leg.

     It was perfect, their foreheads pressed together and watercolor sunlight spilling through the window, stirring the curtains with the first real breath of spring.

 

 

                                                                       *   *   *   *   *

 

 

Peridot sighed, adjusting the bowtie at her throat. She straightened her cuffs, fiddled with her buttons, picked an invisible piece of lint off her sleeve. A fan thrummed in the window. The summer heat was oppressive, defeating her notions of a suit jacket, though she liked the mint-green button-up as it was. Anxiety was guttering in her stomach like a low flame. She checked and rechecked her pants pockets, finding her wallet in one and the tiny box in the other.

     Lapis tapped lightly on the doorframe, and Peridot turned. Her heart skipped pleasantly at the dress that clung to Lapis like layers of midnight-blue crepe. Hair pulled up in a messy little chignon, her neck had never looked longer, her face without makeup absolutely glowing.

     “What do you think?” Peridot asked as Lapis smirked, leaning with one hip on the doorway. “Less like the half-off day at Salvation Army, more like the twenty-dollar rack at Goodwill?”

     Lapis threw her head back and laughed, full and rich.

“No. Better than either.” She considered, her eyes twinkling. “Like dumpster-diving in Manhattan.”

     Peridot snickered at the dig, then went to Lapis and put her hands on her waist. Lapis leaned down and kissed her gently. After hundreds, it still made Peridot’s heart swing unlikely acrobatics in her chest.

   They broke apart at the doorbell ringing.

“I got it,” Lapis said.

     Peridot stood a few seconds after Lapis had moved out of the room, nervousness pounding and jangling in her stomach like live wires dipped in water. She felt like her secret was burning a hole in her pocket. She closed her eyes.

     _You can do this, Olivine. It’s statistically probable you’ll succeed, unless you don’t trust your own calculations. And besides, this stress is completely unfounded, so try to relax; it’s only the most important night of your life._

“I know, she has a whole night planned out,” she heard Lapis say distantly, “I wanted to do something for her, you know, since it’s _her birthday_ ” – some laughter – “but she wouldn’t have any of it.” Even from the other room there was no mistaking the fondness in Lapis’s voice.

     She took a shuddering breath and went out to the living room.

Garnet was kneeling on the floor, sunglasses pushed up on her forehead. She was nodding seriously at something Lapis was saying about dinner, Mala already on her broad lap. Amethyst lounged on the couch with the self-assuredness of a cat in a new place, flicking a few fingers up in a lazy greeting.

     “’Lo,” Garnet said. Peridot realized with a shock that this was the first time she had seen her eyes – one was dark brown, and one was a startling icy blue.

     There was a suspiciously wide smile on Garnet’s lips, and her eyes flicked to Peridot’s pocket for a brief moment before going back to Lapis.

     “We’ll be fine,” Garnet said, her voice never failing to reassure. “Now go have fun.”

Amethyst chipped in, liveliness contradicting her somnolent posture.

     “Yeah, you two go _get_ it. We’ll be here minding the munchkin while you two get freaky under the boardwa – “

     “ _Thank_ you, Amethyst,” Peridot sputtered. Lapis was laughing, snorting into her hand, and Peridot had a brief second to entertain what it would be like, kissing Lapis in the rough sand, with the wind and her fingers tugging that hair out of its pretty updo –

     She knew her face was blazing red, and she coughed, pretending to straighten her bowtie. Amethyst smirked.

     “Relax,” Lapis said, coming up and tucking a curl behind one ear. “Can we go yet? I’m hungry.”

     Peridot smiled, something in her tightening and relaxing at the same time.

“Yes, let’s go,” she said. Her hand found her pocket.

     “Aloha, Mama and Per-da,” Mala said, waving from the floor. She ran over when Peridot opened her arms, and she swung her up, reveling in the pearly smile and the little arms wrapping around her neck.

     “You be good for Garnet and Amethyst, Mala,” Lapis said, dropping a kiss on her daughter’s hair. “Aloha mākou iāʻoe.”

     “We’ll be back late tonight, so I certainly hope you’ll be asleep!” Peridot tickled her stomach, the protesting laughter a sweet melody.

     They left after both kissing Mala goodbye, Amethyst’s roguish wink haunting Peridot significantly less than Garnet’s.

     The stairs were terrible, and Lapis waited, impatient but concerned, as she struggled down each one.

     “When are you going to see a doctor about that akua’ino leg?” she asked when they got into the lobby, holding the door open courteously as Peridot stepped through.

     “Whenever we can find a practitioner who won’t cost me the other leg in co-pay,” Peridot said, the sharpness in her voice evaporating under Lapis’s laugh.

     They got to the restaurant after a brief walk, taking tree-lined back streets to avoid the tourist-clogged main.

     The air conditioning was a relief as they stepped into the restaurant, but it took Peridot’s eyes a moment to adjust to the dimness. The packed dining room was apparently lit only by candlelight, hung with heavy red velvet drapes, the air filled with the thick perfume of roses. Her heart sank as Lapis looked around – rather than being romantic, the whole place gave off the feeling of a very expensive, velvet-lined coffin.

     The receptionist behind the desk gave a pointed little cough, and Peridot startled, stepping forward.

     “Olivine, table for two,” she said, hoping her voice sounded smoother than she felt, but fearing the worst as Lapis gave her an amused little glance.

     “What’s the name?” the receptionist asked, sounding bored, and Peridot sighed imperceptibly. She felt Lapis’s hand wrap around hers.

     “Olivine. O – L – I – V – I – N – E?” She felt something in her gut sink as the receptionist blankly scanned a list.

     “I’m sorry, there’s no reservation by that name,” she said finally. She must have seen the look on Peridot’s face, because she said quickly, “I’m sure we can fit you in somewhere.”

     Thirty minutes later, they were ushered to a table crammed in the very back of the room, between a heavy pillar and the kitchen door. Lapis shivered uncomfortably in the blast of the air conditioning vent directly above her chair.

     Peridot picked up the menu, and Lapis mirrored her, mouth in the tight line she always got when they tried to sell her rotten mangoes at the grocery store. Peridot’s stomach was a ball of cats, clawing her from the inside out.

     They sat in their first awkward silence in months, interspersed with sips of water from expensive wineglasses. Peridot felt the weight of the tiny box in her pocket, suffocating pressure building up in her chest.

     After twenty minutes of staring at the ridiculous prices on the menu with not a waiter in sight, Peridot decided she simply couldn’t do it. She wasn’t going to try and change their lives here, in this horrible room, surrounded but ignored by dozens of other couples with their six-hundred-dollar shoes, their red mouths and white wine. She started to lean over the table, but Lapis whispered first.

     “Peridot,” she said, her hands clasped nervously – _why would she be nervous?_ – and her eyes serious. “I have something I need to tell you.”

     Peridot’s heart was hammering hard enough to make her whole ribcage shake.

“Yes?” she whispered, her voice husky.

     Lapis leaned further, her hand reaching across the table, and Peridot grasped it as gently as she could. Lapis whispered, each word a lead weight falling from her mouth.

     “This. Place. _Sucks._ ”

Peridot gaped for a moment, then cackled, partially in hysterical relief and partially in disappointment. She spoke, lifting her glasses to swipe at her eyes.

     “I have to issue a formal apology for my miscalculation – this place, indeed, sucks _shit.”_

     Lapis stifled a laugh, then gave up and let it out.

“Akua,” she said, “It’s like a – a vampire estate in here.”

     Peridot choked on her water. When she could speak again, she added:

“A funeral parlor on the Upper East Side.”

     They traded back and forth, their laughter getting progressively less quiet, not caring in the least about the dirty looks nearby tables were starting to dole out.

     “A Disneyworld knockoff – Beach City’s very own Haunted Mansion.”

“The final resting place of the entire cast of Rocky Horror Picture Show.”

     “The inside of the Velveteen Rabbit’s asshole.”

Peridot shook, feeling her mouth hang open in silent laughter. Lapis smothered her face in her palm, but couldn’t contain the loud snort that ripped through every inhale.

     It took a few minutes of Peridot looking anywhere but Lapis, but eventually she got herself under control. She took Lapis’s hand again across the table.

     “Let’s go for a walk on the beach.”

Lapis glanced up, eyebrows raised, but when she saw Peridot’s conviction her expression melted into something like warm chocolate.

     “That sounds wonderful,” she said, then: “Maika’i loa. Let’s get out of here before we get jumped by the Addams Family.”

     Peridot was lost again, and Lapis refused to wait, instead pulling her, doubled over, through the restaurant.

     “Excuse me, excuse me, coming through, my girlfriend’s having an asthma attack.”

Peridot waited until they were outside on the sidewalk to straighten up and dab at her streaming eyes.

     “You – absolute – “she wheezed, unable to finish the insult, and Lapis laughed, triumphant and happy enough to switch the electricity back on in Peridot’s stomach.

     They walked three blocks down, the beach dark and deserted, the boardwalk down the beach twinkling like thousands of distant fairy lights. The waves were soft and low, rolling like peals of gentle thunder. Before they stepped down onto the sand, Lapis turned to Peridot, looking concerned.

     “Be honest. Will you be alright on the sand with your knee, or are you just doing this to make me happy?”

     Peridot smiled nervously. _If tonight goes the way I intend, I won’t care if you want to amputate the rest of it with a hacksaw._

“Yes and yes,” she said out loud, “but if I get too decrepit, I fully expect you to carry me back.”

     Lapis nodded.

“Sounds like a pretty even exchange.”

     Peridot could tell she was itching to run, sprint off down the beach on the tail end of the wind. But instead she took Peridot’s hand and smiled, walking by her side down the shallow concrete steps. The stars hung above them in a blaze of near-indescribable beauty, far from the usual dimness of the city.

     They walked together over the shifting sand, Lapis picking up shells and feathers whenever she found them and throwing them into the ocean like offerings. She found flat stones and taught Peridot to skip them, standing behind her, showing her the twist and flick of the wrist needed to make them soar. They talked about the stars, and Lapis told stories about the constellations she knew – Libra, Scorpio, Cygnus.

     Peridot experienced all of it through a haze, her head whirling together in a blur of nervous happiness. They slowed and stopped after a while, and Lapis turned to Peridot, cupping her cheek in one hand, stardust drifting down to glitter in her hair.

     “Happy birthday, Peridot,” she breathed, and kissed her in the warm summer dark, the scent of the ocean in both their lungs, the roar and crash of the waves like cymbals celebrating their elation.

     Peridot knew it was time as they broke apart – she knew, at twenty-one years old, that she wanted to spend the rest of her life with this girl in her arms. She was terrified, _but,_ she thought, _when is anyone ever ready to get married?_

“Lapis,” she stated, her voice trembling. _Oh stars._

She dropped to one knee, feeling the grit of the cold sand through her dress pants, watching Lapis’s smile fade and her eyes grow wider than she’d ever seen. She thought her heart had stopped, or maybe it was beating so fast that it just hummed, individual beats blurring together in the dark. She took a deep breath, feeling her lungs expand. She half-wished she had written something, but if she knew one thing by now, it was that with Lapis Launiu it made no sense to try and prepare.

     “I’m going to attempt something flowery here, so humor me and try to hold in your laughter until the end,” Peridot said, her mouth dry. She thought Lapis had never looked less likely to laugh.

     “When we first met, I thought you weren’t going to be an easy roommate,” she began. Lapis’s hand squeezed hers so tightly she felt the bones shift in her fingers. “Remember how much you hated me being there? I don’t think we said more than a few words to each other in the first three weeks. But I wanted to get to know you, even though you clearly didn’t feel the same way, because some miniscule part of me beyond logic saw that you were kind and gentle and so incredibly strong.” She paused. For some reason she was having trouble breathing, her throat shrinking to the size of something improbable: a flower stem, a hummingbird beak. “You fought against life so hard for so long. I – I didn’t know it at the time, but I wanted to make it so you wouldn’t have to fight anymore. I wanted you to be _happy_ , Lapis. And I thought we were doing fairly well, until I made an incalculable mistake. I took the trust you gave me and threw it away.”

     Lapis’s other hand was pressing against her mouth. Her eyes weren’t bright, but soft and full and so radiant they made Peridot’s breath hitch. It looked like she was being filled with light from the inside out.

     “Those months were torture,” she said. “I was an enormous clod. It took too long for me to realize that I had done something wrong, that you hadn’t simply overreacted. But that’s the greatest thing” she took a breath that was part laugh, “everything is so complex, so tied up in thousands of other things. We had both done something wrong, and we had both done something right, and nothing was going to happen if I just sat around moaning about how every minute not with you was a whole year wasted.”

     Lapis dropped her eyes, color high in her cheeks, the smile behind her hand enough to turn the earth.

     “And stars, when I found you again, I was terrified. I kept thinking if you hadn’t come back, if you hadn’t had the strength to get yourself out of that water, how _unfair_ that would have been – that I never would have had the chance to tell you how goddamn sorry I was. But once I managed to tell you – “ she broke off, embarrassed at the tears in her eyes. “I’m going to revert to several clichés. But _stars,_ Lapis – how do you tell someone that they make you feel like there’s a whole ocean in your chest? How do you convey wanting to pick up the solar system on the way home from work so they can have the constellations on their ceiling?”

     Peridot reached into her pocket, fumbled with the little box through the blurriness in her eyes, and Lapis let go of her hand so that she could open it. The gem glinted blue specked with gold on a slim silver band, raindrop-shaped, and Lapis recognized the lapis lazuli, gasped out a little laugh.

     “Lapis,” Peridot said, an undignified quiver in her voice, “I don’t want you to feel trapped. But, if you – if you would – stay – there’s nothing I want more.”

     Peridot could barely see well enough to slip the ring on as Lapis extended her hand. Both of them were shaking in the earthquake as the world flipped upside down.

     As soon as the ring was on her finger, Lapis pulled Peridot to her feet, and they were spinning with enough force to lift off the earth, to fly up past the stars, borne on wings of water and Lapis’s breath.

     “Yes, oh akua, _yes_.”

They finally stopped spinning, and Peridot closed her eyes for a moment, reveling in the dizziness and the fireworks swirling around her head.

     “I love you,” Peridot said, tasting the words.

“Aloha wau iā ʻoe kekahi,” Lapis said in what was almost a song, “I love you too.”

     And it should have been too much, too cliché, the two of them orbiting down the beach under the stars in that sweet salt-kissed midsummer night, but it was perfect instead. As if the world had finally gone right.

     Peridot laughed, feeling a small sun burst in her heart, as Lapis picked her up again. With the ocean’s spray flying around them, the stars wheeling overhead, they spun into the surf.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> okay
> 
> so i started this whole crazy wild adventure in july of 2016. i think i've already mentioned that it began as a little story with a side romance, a place to store and confirm all my ideas for a world of human gems. but over the past sixteen months it's turned into so much more, and i'm so happy to have shared it with you guys. as much as i wrote this for self-serving purposes, i probably would have given up last year if you all hadn't been here with your comments and support. i hope you've all enjoyed watching my writing transform from an awkward, syntactically-challenged little creature to something entirely new, and i hope you've enjoyed seeing lapis, peridot and mala grow to a family <3
> 
> thank you all so much for reading !!
> 
> also, i'm marking this as complete for now, but stay tuned for a possible epilogue !!
> 
> *chapter title: ka mea hiki ke ha'i ka mea e hiki mai ana - who can tell what the future holds
> 
> translations:
> 
> e hele mai, i kahi keiki, makemake nui ko’u aloha ia’oe - come here baby, i love you so much
> 
> a'ole - no
> 
> maika’i - fine
> 
> akua, e kala mai ea’u - god, please forgive me
> 
> akua ho’okolokolo’ia - god damned
> 
> ka maka - an eye
> 
> maika’i wau - i'm fine
> 
> he aha ka pilikia - what's the matter?
> 
> ’a’ohe mea kupono - nothing's wrong
> 
> ‘a’ole na’e - not really
> 
> ka meli - honey
> 
> paki palaoa - papaya bread
> 
> e ‘olu ‘olu - please
> 
> e lawe ia ia mai o’u oku nei - get her off me
> 
> aloha - (contextually) goodbye
> 
> aloha mākou iāʻoe - we love you
> 
> akua’ino - cursed / damned
> 
> maika’i loa - sounds good
> 
> oh akua - oh god
> 
> aloha wau iā ʻoe kekahi - i love you too


End file.
